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MEMOIR ' 

OF _ * . 

ALVAN STONE, ^^p^ 



OF 



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GOSHEN, MASS. 




BY DAVID WRIGHT, Sl^g/^ 

I'iSTOR OF THE CKHTRAI. CHI iUII. tt I 



* Tht mrmorij ojH^ 



BOSTON 

NDALL AND l 
Hartford Canfiekl and Robins. 

Northampton ». U Butler. 



W' 



Entered according to Act. of Congress, in the year 1837, 
By David Wright, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



<32f£ 



John Metcalf. Printer. 

Northampton. 



M E M () 1 R. 



MEMOIR. 






CHAPTER I. 

'/■■• Early Years — EmpUnp 
— Commence* writing — / Greeks will I — S 
— His ( rd for Vie Scripture* — <> 

ictcr—Thc Fly. 

Tun subject of this Memoir was the tenth and 
youngest child of Major Ambrose and Mrs. 
Katharine Stone. II born August L5, 

1807, m Goshen, a small town in Hampshire 
county, Mas d about 14 miles N. W, 

from Northampton, on one of those mountain 
9 which cros- Stem part of the com- 

monwealth, where his aged parents still reside, 
with most of their children settled around them, 

and possess a comfortable heritage for the sup- 
ply of their needs, till God shall call Uiem 
hence. 

Alvan \ Tightly child, and the delight 

of all the family. His temper was mild and 
even; and his manners were unassuming, kind, 
and obliging. Truth was found in his lips, and 
a falsehood was odious to his heart. When re- 
proved for a fault, he felt a sincere regret, and 
was cautious to avoid a repetition of the same. 

Another excellence was found in him, which 
is one of the surest marks of inward principle, 



10 MEMOIR OF 

that he carefully regarded the fifth command- 
ment. One exception only can the compiler 
mention. When he was about seventeen years 
old, he accompanied a neighboring youth to a 
party of pleasure, without the permission or 
knowledge of his parents. The review of this 
affair caused him many bitter reflections ; and 
probably always in recollection made him asham- 
ed ; as every undutiful child and youth should 
be, for all his transgressions of God's holy com- 
mandments. 

It is related, that at a certain time he observ- 
ed two ladies, strangers to him, troubled with an 
unsuitable and bad horse, on a journey ; and he 
took the horse by the bit, and led him about 
three miles. Nor did he leave them, until he 
had procured another horse for them to pursue 
their journey and return. This act greatly in- 
terested the ladies, and called forth their grate- 
ful acknowledgement of his kindness. This is 
but one among the many unostentatious deeds 
of benevolence which he delighted to practice. 
And may not every youth have opportunity to go 
and do likewise ? Is not a benevolent heart oft- 
ener lacking, than an opportunity to do good to 
those who need our help ? Was not the good 
Samaritan a happy man ? There is a luxury in 
doing good with all the heart, which the reluc- 
tant never enjoy. 

Having labored on the farm and in the cloth- 
ier's business with his father, until he had en- 
tered his twentieth year, his parents perceiving 
that he was not of firm and robust constitution, 



ALVAN STONE. 11 

and that he was fond of learning, consented to 
his pursuit of a classical education. There be- 
ing no suitable school in his native town, he was 
sent abroad to the academies at Hadley, Cum- 
mington, and Ashneld. At the latter place he 
was fitted for college, under the instruction of 
Mr. Robert A. Collin, then Principal of Sander- 
son Academy, afterwards teacher at New-Ips- 
wich, N. H. and now Principal of the Female 
Academy at Warren, II. I. whose high opinion 
of Mr. Stone will be found in a letter to the 
compiler, near the end of this volume. 

The earliest effusion of his pen, which is 
found among his papers, was dated at Hadley, 
in January, 1827. It breathes that spirit of lib- 
erty and philanthropy which should dwell in ev- 
ery bosom. It is here presented to the reader. 

Tin: GREEKS will r.r, i: 

* The condition of the Greeks, in their une- 
qual struggle for liberty, is calculated to awaken 
the tenderest feeli. mpathy. Their coun- 

try is overrun by barbarian armies ; their cities 
and villages are plundered and burnt ; and their 
women and children are butchered in cold 
blood, or what is worse, carried into hopeless 
slavery, from the lights of Christianity into the 
dark shades of the false prophet, there to drag 
out a miserable existence. The nations of Eu- 
rope can look on with cold indifference ; or if 
any exertion is made, it is to transport these 
blood-thirsty murderers to the shores of Greece, 
or lead their armies to the slaughter of the un- 
offending Greeks. 



12 MEMOIR OF 

*■ It is said, they are a nation of pirates, and 
deserve to be slaves, and are entitled to less 
sympathy than the Turks themselves. If ever a 
people were entitled to commiseration, the Greeks 
are. Are we to suppose they will be distin- 
guished by all the virtues of which their ances- 
tors were possessed, after groaning so long un- 
der a tyranny whose chief object is to crush all 
intellect ? Is it not rather a matter of astonish- 
ment, that so much bravery, integrity, and vir- 
tue, are found among them ? The Greeks as a 
nation are a virtuous people. 

1 We have seen them struggling seven years, 
for life, for liberty, and all that is dear to them ; 
and yet we see them unconquered. Shall we 
despair of their becoming a victorious, free and 
happy people ? No. They will yet be free. 
They will yet hold a conspicuous place in the 
rank of nations. If the European nations can- 
not lend their assistance to break the yoke of 
their oppressors, let them be neutral ; let them 
be at least idle spectators ; and the Greeks will 
achieve their liberty themselves : for a nation 
that icills it, will be free.' 

The following remarks on Slavery in the Uni- 
ted States, written at Hadley, soon after the 
preceding, are worthy of the present day. 

SLAVERY. 

' One of the darkest stains on our national 
character is the existence of slavery in these 
United States. It is a matter of astonishment, 
in a government where all are declared ' free 



ALVAN STONE. 13 

and equal/ that so many of our fellow creatures 
are held in the most cruel bondage. I would 
ask, where is the equality of that government 
which tolerates the slavery of more than two 
millions of her subjects? 

• Slavery has its advocates ; and they pretend 
to say in its defense, that it is a mercy to the 
African to bring him into a country of civiliza- 
tion, and to bring him where he will have an 
opportunity of hearing the truths of the gospel. 
But what is he bettered ? Does the southern 
planter teach him civilization I There are a 
few instances in which this may be the case. 
But in general, instead of applying the balm to 
his soul, the ' resounding iplied to his 
body ; and instead of unlocking his mind from 
the fetters of ignorance, li« red to remain 
so, and his body is loaded with cbai 

* Some (and I am sorry to say, one of New 

ind's brightest sons is of the number) pre- 
tend to draw argument port of it from the 
Bible. To show the fallacy of such reasoning, 
it is only necessary to advert to a command of 
our Saviour, " would that men should do 
unto you, do ye even so unto them/' On exam- 
ination it will be seen, tfa 

in scripture which tolerates it. That it is a na- 
tional evil, every disinterested person will allow. 
And as national evils are punished by national 
calamities, we may expect that our country will 
be visited with judgments, and that God will at 
length avenge the cause of Afric's injured sons 
on their oppressors.' 



14 MEMOIR OF 

It does not appear that Mr. S. manifested any 
special interest in religious concerns, till he at- 
tended the academy at Hadley in the winter of 
1826-7. He did not however obtain peace and 
joy in believing, till the early part of 1827. This 
happened at a meeting in the eastern part of 
Cummington, held at the dwelling of Mr. E. 
Robbins. A certain hymn of Dr. Watts then 
became very peculiarly precious to his heart. 
The hope of salvation was from that time as an 
helmet to his head, and the joy of faith beamed 
in his countenance. 

But his mind was often overcast with doubts 
respecting the genuineness of his conversion. 
These doubts may have arisen in some measure 
fronrhis extraordinary cautiousness to ascertain 
the facts in every matter of importance with 
which he had any concern. 

The change however was evident to all who 
knew him. For "if any man be in Christ, he 
is a new creature : old things are passed away ; 
behold, all things are become new.' 3 Though 
he had no degrading vices to abandon, no invet- 
erate habits to reform ; yet it was apparent that 
he was turned to God. He felt, he thought, he 
spake, he perceived anew. His violin was laid 
aside, and scarcely could he be induced at all to 
use it. But on the bass-viol he was willing to 
perform in the solemn services of the sanctuary. 
Religion thenceforth became his chief concern. 
Nor was he satisfied to have a mere hope of 
heaven. He sought to become acquainted with 
all the sweet pleasures of communion with God, 



ALVAN STONE. 15 

and to exemplify all the virtues of the Christian 
character. 

No person doubted his piety and sincerity. 
Even the careless and profane conceived a res- 
pect for his goodness and benevolence ; and all 
the lovers of godliness delighted in his compa- 
ny. The saints were to him the excellent of 
the earth ; and though affable to all into whose 
society he came, he numbered as his chosen 
companions only them that feared the Lord. 

Unwilling to receive any doctrine upon the 
declaration of others, he carefully studied the 
Holy Scriptures for his own information, and at- 
tained a good understanding of their sacred con- 
tents. Whatever he found in the Bible, that he 
believed and loved, and practiced with consci- 
entious precision, receiving it not as the word of 
man, but of God who trieth the heart ; and 
whatever he conceived to be Christian duty for 
others, that he was scrupulous to fulfill himself. 
This was probably the cause of that remarkable 
circumspection of conduct for which he was dis- 
tinguished. 

He w r as cheerful, but solemn ; humble, but 
not mean ; too meek to resent an injury, or to 
envy the supercilious. He allowed not himself 
to speak evil of any one, even when tempted by 
others to do so ; but he chose rather to apolo- 
gize for the absent, in the spirit of that charity 
which thinketh no evil and which covereth a 
multitude of sins. 

In conversation he was rather reserved, ex- 
cept with some intimate friends ; and on no oc- 



16 MEMOIR OF 

casion was he loquacious and dogmatical. For 
he had adopted that ancient Greek maxim, " Be 
silent, or say something better than silence. " 

In all his narrations he was careful to main- 
tain the strictest veracity, that, being a faithful 
witness, the truth might not suffer through any 
misrepresentation by him. 

Though not a busybody in the concerns of 
others, he was a close observer of every thing 
around him ; and lil^e the industrious bee, he 
possessed the happy art of educing instruction 
and improvement from whatever was before him. 

The following was written in Oct. 1S27, 
when at Cummington, and exposes something 
of the shape of his mind at that time. 

THE FLY. 

6 Happening to raise my eyes from my book, 
I observed one of my school-mates at the desk 
next me, with an opened knife in his hand, who 
appeared to be attentively watching something. 
Upon a closer look, I observed a fly traveling 
along directly under the point of the Knife, heed- 
less of the danger and fate which awaited him. 
The fly stopped ; the fatal weapon descended, 
and the poor fellow was completely transfixed, 
and the next moment held forth on the point of 
the knife, if not a bleeding, a quivering trophy 
of skill. My first thought was, Had that fly feel- 
ing l Was he subject to the sensations of pleas- 
ure and pain ? That he could receive pleasure, 
was evident from his appearance as he crept 



ALVAN STONE. 17 

along the desk in the sunshine in which he had 
alighted ; and that he could suffer pain, appear- 
ed plainly from his writhing and quivering as he 
hung on the point of the knife. 

' The thought next presented itself to me, 
Will any benefit result from this act of cruelty ? 
Will any happiness be gained to any creature 
by destroying this insect, by stopping this little 
machine, which nothing short of the creative 
power of God could form and put in motion ? 
I could not see that any possible good would re- 
sult from it. Besides I thought that time might 
be more profitably spent, than in a warfare with 
such harmless insects. Thinking that this in- 
difference to the sufferings of this little creature 
was more from want of consideration than a cru- 
el disposition, my object in writing is to lead to 
reflection ; and if the cause of humanity is sub- 
served, the end for which I write is answered. 

* This affair may appear trivial and of little 
consequence to some. But the same feelings 
which would prompt us to relieve the distresses 
of our fellow men, would induce us to regard 
the sufferings of an insect. And one who could 
not compassionate the misery, or who could 
sport with the agonies even of a fly, would wit- 
ness without emotion the scenes of the guillo- 
tine, or view unmoved the carnage and suffer- 
ings of Waterloo.' 



18 MEMOIR OF 



CHAPTER II. 

Care for others 7 Salvation — Reflections after a Revival — On 
Death — Qualifications of a School Teacher — Regard for 
the Lord's day — Love of Prayer. 

A deep concern for the salvation of others, is 
among the best evidences of a sound conversion. 
This Mr. S. very soon manifested. Nor was.it 
the transient emotion of the early days of his re- 
ligious experience ; but it became the habitual 
breathing of his soul, and the assiduous labor of 
his whole life. " We do not live for ourselves/' 
said he, in an address to his pupils at the close 
of a school. This he ever bore in mind, as a 
fundamental principle of action, till his expiring 
day. 

In the November after that glorious revival of 
religion at Cummington, in which he obtained a 
hope in the mercy of God, the following was 
written and presented before the select school of 
which he was a member in that place. 

REFLECTIONS AFTER A REVIVAL. 

c The Spirit of God has evidently been in this 
place, and his blessed influences have been felt 
on the hearts of many, and perhaps of all. It is 
not long since that all-important inquiry, " What 
shall I do to be saved ?" was heard, and the one 
thing needful appeared to be the only object of 
pursuit. Religion was then the theme on every 
tongue. Sinners were seen flocking to the 
house of prayer, or reading their Bibles. Con- 



ALVAN STONE. 19 

ference rooms were crowded, and many appear- 
ed to be pressing into the kingdom of God. 

1 Is it so now ? No. Far otherwise. To all 
appearance the harvest is past. Christians seem 
to have become indifferent, as if they had done 
enough. Impenitent sinners have become stu- 
pi 1 : and the concerns of the soul, the immortal 
soul, are neglected. But why is it thus ? Is 
not God the same being lie was three months 
ago ? and are not his commands as much to be 
regarded ? Is not the soul of as much value as 
it was then? and is not the happiness of heaven 
and misery of hell the same ? Yes; God is the 
same yesterday, to day, and forever ; and his 
commands are as binding as they ever were. 
The soul is yet of infinite value. Heaven and 
hell are the same ; and the solemn s 
leath and judgment arc no less worthy of re- 
gard. 

' In view of such realities, how should we 
every exertion for the salvation of souls ! And 
if there are means for na to use, Low diligent 
pnght we to be in using them, knowing that 
is no work, nor I m in 

, whither we go. How it bee 
who must give an account, to inquire what there 
is for us to do ; and to determine, as did the in- 
spired writer, " For /ion's sake will 1 not hold 
my peace, and for Jerusal ke 1 will not 

rest, until the righteousness thereof no forth as 
brightness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp 
that burnetii.'' 

1 If the departure of the Spirit of God from 



20 MEMOIR OF 

among us is so deeply to be lamented by those 
who are renewed, surely those of us who are- 
still unreconciled to him, and who have had his 
strivings with us, ought to be deeply affected. 
Although an awful stupor may have come over 
us, which renders us blind to our danger, and 
seven other spirits worse than the first may have 
returned, yet these are only presages of our 
more certain destruction ; and when at last the 
fatal spell is broken, and our blinded eyes are 
opened on a never ending eternity, we shall see 
that that heaven which was not worth striving 
for in this life, is gone from us forever.' 

ON DEATH. 

' Death is the sentence passed on all man- 
kind ; and of all the innumerable multitudes 
who have come into existence and lived, since 
the creation and fall of man, we read of but two 
who have been permitted to escape this condem- 
nation. 

' The term cleatJi, as I use it here, means on- 
ly the dissolution of the body, and Hot that " sec- 
ond death" which will be the portion of the 
finally impenitent, and which will be far more 
awful, infinitely more dreadful. But when con- 
sidered in the former sense, it presents to the 
mind accustomed to meditate, a subject for the 
most serious consideration and deepest reflec- 
tion. When contemplated as the period of 
earthly prospects, of earthly hopes, joys, pleas- 
ures, and sufferings, as an end of all those cares 
which have ever occupied, and as a last separa- 



ALVAN STONE. 21 

tion from all the things of this world in which 
we have had our first existence, lived and acted ; 
I say, when viewed as a final farewell to all 
these things, it cannot be considered of small 
moment. 

' But it is when viewed as connected with 
another world, as a passway to eternity, that it 
appears the most solemn, and worthy the most 
serious regard. When viewed as connecting a 
changing with a changeless state, as sealing up 
our grand account, then surely it will not, it 
cannot seem a small thing to die. A disposi- 
tion to consider death as far distant, exists very 
generally in man ; and if a thought of death 
force itself into the mind, it is often dismissed 
as an unwelcome intruder. Other things of 
small importance, and comparatively of no im- 
portance, occupy the attention and thoughts ; 
but death is not made familiar by frequent con- 
verse ; and consequently, at last the king of ter- 
rors finds his victim wholly unprepared. 

' Whilst standing by the deathbed of a friend, 
when the last convulsive groan is heard, whilst 
viewing the affecting scene which all must 
eventually pass through, who does not wish to 
be prepared for such a scene ? Who does not 
then say, " Let me die the death of the right- 
eous, and let my last end be like his?" But 
how vain, how foolish the wish, in those who 
will not live the life of the righteous ! And 
how few there are, who can say, in that solemn 
hour, " O death, where is thy sting? O grave, 
where is thy victory V % Thanks be to God, who 
3 



22 MEMOIR OF 

taketh away the sting. There are some, who 
can look the grim messenger in the face, and 
welcome him with joy. Are we of that num- 
ber ? If so, happy, glorious is our lot. If not, 
let us see to it ; for the time is at hand.' 
May 21, 1823. 

The instruction of youth was a branch of bu- 
siness in which Mr. S. was deeply interested, 
and for which he was anxious to become well 
qualified. His views upon this subject are found 
in a piece written probably about the time of his 
first engaging in this interesting employment, 
which was in the winter of 1S27-8, with the en- 
tire approbation of the school committee, in his 
native town. 

Those things which are necessary to a good 
school teacher, as Mr. S. stated in the piece re- 
ferred to, are good order, intelligence, impartial- 
ity, anxiety for the improvement of his pupils, 
patience. " But above all," says he, " it is ne- 
cessary that one who has the care of youth 
should feel his responsibility, not only to his 
employers, but to the tribunal of Heaven. Let 
him feel that the eternal as well as temporal in- 
terests of immortals are in a great measure com- 
mitted to his care, and in some degree to his di- 
rection ; and let him act with a due regard to 
this, and he will exert such an influence on his 
scholars and they reciprocally on him, as will 
approach nearest to a perfect school, of any 
thing we can imagine." 



ALVAN STONE. 23 

The Lord's day was esteemed and honored 
by him as the best of all the seven ; for he loved 
the habitation of God's house and the place 
where his honor dwelleth ; and he was glad 
when it was said, " Let us go into the house of 
the Lord/' 

It is well remembered, that he was grieved to 
have any part of the sacred day occupied for a 
singing school, because of the tendency to di- 
vert the thoughts from God and divine things, 
and to produce a levity which is foreign to the 
devotions of the heart. And although some of 
his letters were written on the Sabbath, his at- 
tention was fixed solely on evangelical topics, 
that with them he might edify bis distant friends, 
to whom he could in no other way have access. 

Prayer was the delight of his heart, both in 
secret and among the people of God. Nor was 
he satisfied to sustain the form, unless he pos- 
sessed also the spirit of prayer. This increased 
that longing after holiness for which he was dis- 
tinguished ; and his breathing after holiness 
promoted the spirit of prayer. He also loved to 
retire with some godly friend with whom he 
might mingle his supplications and entreaties 
for growth in grace, and for the conversion of 
the impenitent. On these occasions lie poured 
out his heart before God as a father and friend, 
who is able to do all things which are asked of 
him in the name of Christ. 



24 MEMOIR OF 

CHAPTER III. 

He thinks of professing Religion— -Perplexities about it — Is 
established by the Scriptures — Connects with the Church in 
Cummington — Goes to Ashfeld Academy— Fulfdlment of 
Prophecy on Jerusalem. 

Not long after his conversion, he became ex- 
ercised in mind upon the duty of making a pub- 
lic profession of his faith in Christ. His pa- 
rents were attendants at the Congregational 
meeting, and his mother was a member of that 
church. He loved Christians of every name, 
and wished to enjoy familiar intercourse with 
them. But he well knew that all their differing 
views and practices cannot be right. He wish- 
ed to understand and walk in the truth, that he 
might please God and enjoy a good conscience, 
be useful to Zion, and be fitted for heaven. 

The subject of baptism for a time perplexed 
his careful thoughts. In a letter written with a 
pencil, to one who had been in a similar state of 
mind, he said, " I have thought it my duty to 
unite with some church, if properly qualified for 
admission. Having some doubts as to baptism, 
I began to examine the subject ; but after in- 
vestigating it at times for more than six months, 
I cannot say that I am nearer a determination 
than when I began. There are some passages 
of scripture which seem to me to countenance 
infant baptism, and some the contrary. Res- 
pecting the mode also, I have had some doubts, 
but think there is most evidence that it was by 
immersion. On the whole, ray present impres- 



ALVAN STONE. 25 

sions are, that infant baptism ought to be practi- 
ced, and this by immersion. Had I not been 
baptized in infancy, I think my duty would be 
plain. Whether it would not be sinful, and a 
despising of an ordinance of God (if infant bap- 
tism be right) to be baptized again, I am una- 
ble to determine. I think I am desirous to fol- 
low duty in it, whatever it may be ; but from 
my knowledge of the Scriptures, and from the 
treatises on the subject that I have perused, and 
which are quite numerous, I am at loss to deter- 
mine what duty is. Your opinions perhaps 
would satisfy my mind ; and if you think it 
worth your while to send them me, you will ve- 
ry much oblige, foe." 

No person could easily sway his mind to em- 
brace opinions without satisfactory arguments to 
sustain them. He knew how far his views were 
clear on any subject, and where his dithculties 
existed. On the above mentioned subject, he 
found with Bernard, that 

"Men's books with heaj»s of chaff are stoi. 

and turning from them to the living Oracles of 
God, enlightened by perusing attentively the 
New Testament, he became fully convinced that 
sprinkling for baptism is not supported by the 
Scriptures, and that the administration to in- 
fants and unbelievers is founded wholly upon 
the traditions and commandtneuts of uninspired 
men. 

It was generally supposed, that should he ev- 
3# . 



26 MEMOIR OF 

er unite with any church, it would be with the 
Congregational. But nobody fully knew his in- 
tentions ; for he kept his views principally to 
himself, until they were well matured. Nor 
were his friends officious to interfere, persuaded 
that he would think and act only upon his own 
deliberate convictions of duty before God. Will- 
ing however, to receive instruction in the things 
pertaining to the gospel, with his fond mother 
he visited her pastor and conversed freely upon 
baptism, proposing to be immersed and unite 
with that church, which the pastor declined to 
do, because he had been sprinkled in infancy. 

On the 23d of May, 1828, Mr. S. called on 
the pastor of the Baptist church in Cumming- 
ton, and proposed to make him a visit the fol- 
lowing day. He came accordingly ; and the 
pastor, entirely ignorant of the intent of this vis- 
it, engaged with him in general religious con- 
versation. At length Mr. S. proposed himself 
to the pastor as a candidate for church member- 
ship, stating his conviction that immersion only 
is baptism, and that believers only are qualified 
subjects. Having given a satisfactory account 
of the work of grace in his heart, the articles of 
faith and covenant adopted by that church were 
presented for his consideration ; and to them he 
readily gave his assent, excepiing that article 
which declares baptism to be an indispensable 
pre-requisite to communion at the Lord's table. 
On this point his mind was not established. He 
could commune with Pedobaptists who are ex- 
perimental believers, and said he might esteem 



ALVAN STONE. 27 

it a privilege so to do. He was assured, that 
the church could not consistently concede to 
him as a privilege, that which they could not 
themselves assume ; and that if he became a 
member of the church, he must submit to the 
economy of the church. And yet that should 
he hereafter esteem it his duty to unite with 
some other denomination, he would be cheerful- 
ly dismissed from this church, to go where he 
shall choose. 

On Sabbath morning, when he called on the 
pastor again, his mind was not fully settled. 
But just before afternoon worship commenced, 
he signified to the pastor that he had made up 
his mind to accede to the propositions of yester- 
day's interview, and that he wished to present 
himself before the church at the close of public 
worship, as he must leave the place within the 
succeeding week, to prosecute his studies at 
Ashfield academy. Agreeably to Jhis desire, the 
church tarried and heard with unexpected pleas- 
ure the following narrative of 

HIS RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 

6 From my earliest recollections religion has 
appeared to me the one thing needful : and I 
ever meant, at some future time, to seek and ob- 
tain it. Notwithstanding this, I lived almost to- 
tally regardless of it, until the spring of 1^*2(3, 
when in some measure I was led to feel the im- 
portance of a more immediate attention to it. 
And although I knew there must be a change of 
heart, T believe I had but very faint and inade- 



28 MEMOIR OF 

quate ideas of vital godliness. Living without 
prayer, and even being ashamed to be thought 
seeking the salvation of my soul, it was no won- 
der, that at the end of summer, instead of being 
in an accepted state, as I had hoped, I was to 
all appearance farther from it than ever. 

' I continued on in this state, frequently trem- 
bling under the preached word, though I know 
not that any then knew I had even a serious 
thought, until I went to pass the winter in a 
neighboring town, where there was quite a seri- 
ous attention to religion. Here I continued 
through the winter, attending more to the out- 
ward forms of religion than before, but perhaps 
as much a stranger to the inward power as ever. 
At the end of winter I returned home, almost 
giving up the hope of very soon obtaining relig- 
ion ; for I thought I never should have another 
opportunity like the one I had enjoyed. In the 
spring, the revival commencing in Cummington, 
meetings were held in the eastern part, which I 
attended, and where I was first, permitted to 
hope in pardoning mercy. Whether I have ac- 
cepted the terms of salvation or not, I cannot 
say; but leaving the event with him who search- 
ed! the heart, and feeling it my duty (if I should 
be thought a fit subject) to join myself to his 
people, to be admonished and guided by their 
counsel, I determine, through the grace of God, 
as far as in me lies, to devote myself to my Ma- 
ker and Redeemer, and to his cause. 

A. Stone.' 



ALVAN STONE. 29 

The pastor then related the more important 
particulars in his interview with Mr. S. the pre- 
ceding day, as stated in a foregoing page, and 
his readiness to submit to the order and disci- 
pline of the church ; to all which Mr. S. assent- 
ed ; and having given satisfactory answers to 
other inquiries then made, a unanimous vote for 
his acceptance was obtained ; and the same day 
he was buried in baptism and received into the 
number of its members, May 25, 1828. 

As Mr. S. left the place within the week, to 
pursue his studies at Ashfield, very little inter- 
course was enjoyed between him and the church 
for several months afterward. But they learned 
that he adorned his profession, and grew in the 
affection and esteem of the saints. Though his 
mind was not clear upon the subject of com- 
munion at the Lord's table, when he became a 
church member, the pastor found no necessity 
of laboring with him upon it the space of live 
minutes. For Mr. S. could not rest content, 
until the question was fully settled in his own 
mind, which issued decidedly in favor of restrict- 
ed communion, as may be seen in a letter to a 
beloved fellow youth, written some months after, 
and to be found in another part of this volume. 

In a brief history of Jerusalem, written at Ash- 
field, and dated July 2, 1828, are the following 
closing remarks. 

JERUSALEM. 

'But how different is Jerusalem now, from 
that once magnificent populous city ! Of a truth 



30 MEMOIR OF 

the sceptre has departed from Judah ; — her house 
is left desolate. Where once the temple stood, 
now stands a mosque of the false prophet, with- 
in whose courts no Jew or Christian is permit- 
ted to enter, on pain of death. And the Jew 
who is permitted to come to the wall without, 
and sit down in the dust and weep, turning his 
face toward the place where once the glory of 
God was manifested, is even obliged to pay for 
this privilege. 

6 In contemplating these things, who can 
doubt the truth of prophecy ? Who can be an 
infidel 1 Jerusalem is still trodden down by the 
Gentiles. The Jew is still a proverb and a by- 
word in all nations. All these things conspire 
to shew, that not one jot or one tittle shall pass 
from prophecy, till all be fulfilled ; and that he 
who spake as never man spake, and before 
whom all nations are but as the dust of the bal- 
ance, will go on in his grand designs and glo- 
rious purposes, to the joy of his redeemed, and 
to the everlasting shame and confusion of all his 
enemies.' 



ALVAN STONE. 31 

CHAPTER IV. 

Valley of Vision — Greek Maxim — Flattery. 

In the following there is manifested a strong 
imagination and a feeling heart. 

THE VALLEY OF VISION. 

1 As I was one evening musing on the changes 
of time, the revolutions and convulsions which 
have been in the world since its creation, the 
rise and fall of empires, the wars and conten- 
tions among the nations of the earth, — how de- 
sirable, thought I, would it be, to have these 
scenes brought before me as it were in minia- 
ture, that I may see what those vast multitudes 
who have come upon the stage and passed off in 
such rapid succession, have busied themselves 
about, — what have been their pursuits, desires, 
aims, and attainments ! How I could wish for 
some valley of vision, where I may cast off this 
narrow perception, and where my comprehen- 
sion would be suited to the magnitude of the 
scene ! 

* While musing thus, consciousness seemed 
gradually to leave me, and I fancied myself at 
the entrance of a vast valley, in which I saw 
multitudes of people of all ages, ranks, and con- 
ditions, some alone, some in companies^ but all 
busily employed. Surely, said I, this must be 
the valley of vision : but what can all this vast 
multitude be so eagerly seeking? and what can 
be the attainments of these busy mortals ? 



32 MEMOIR OF 

c I passed on. All at once the clash of arms 
broke upon my ear. Broken shouts of ' On, ye 
brave J' ' Death or victory!' were borne on the 
breeze, mingled with the din of combat. Soon 
all was silent. I saw the conqueror with his le- 
gions pass along ; and as great numbers paid 
homage, I saw on his helmet written in charac- 
ters of blood, ' Glory V ' Honor !' 

1 1 continued on. One next arrested my at- 
tention, who appeared to be talking to himself in 
the most animating manner. I saw before him 
a heap of glittering coin and shining bullion. 
f Who would not starve/ said he ; ' who would 
not suffer ; who would not toil, to gain such 
treasure ? I have done these. Now I am re- 
warded ; now I can feast my eyes with such a 
sight ; now I am happy.' 

' I passed the grounds of the farmer. I saw 
him as he walked his fields. He viewed his nu- 
merous flocks and herds, and his barns stored 
with the fruits of the earth. I heard him talk of 
his farms ; and his heart seemed to leap for joy, 
as he described their products and their value. 
He seemed happy. 

* I turned from him, to view a party who 
appeared to enjoy themselves with the greatest 
degree of conviviality. The choicest delicacies 
were placed before them ; and while they re- 
joiced exceedingly, I heard them say one to 
another, 'What is life, without enjoying it? 
What is wealth ? Let us live, while we live. 
Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we shall 
die.' Not far distant from them, I saw one, 



ALVAN STONE. 33 

who 5 as he was walking by himself, burst out in- 
to frequent fits of laughter. I wondered at his 
joy. T ask him the cause. He pointed to the 
cup which he held in his hand, and said, ' This 
is the soother of my care ; this transports me 
from sorrow to joy. This is all I have, and all 
I want ; for it makes me happy.' 

1 1 passed on. Hearing the sound of music, 
I turned and saw a company of youth whose feet 
beat time to the lively notes, and whose move- 
ments corresponded to the quick measures of 
the viol. Expression^ of joy marked every 
blooming countenance ; and as they mingled in 
the mazy dance, seemingly unconscious of eve- 
ry thing else, all appeared perfectly happy. 

1 My attention was called from these, to view 
a company farther onward, from whom I thought 
I heard expressions of grief and sorrow. As I 
drew nearer to them, I was struck with the con- 
trast between them and the other inhabitants of 
the valley, while I heard them say, * We do 
groan, being burdened. Let us live as strangers 
and pilgrims, not conformed to this world, but 
transformed. ' Such was their conversation. 
And if any cast a longing look after the busy 
multitude around them, I heard the frequent ad- 
monition, ' Look not on the tilings that are seen, 
for they are temporal. 5 As I passed them by, 
I thought they were a very melancholy company. 

'While I reflected on what I had seen, I 
could not but think with myself, how easy it is 
to be happy ! I thought of all the different class- 
4 



34 MEMOIR OF 

es I had seen in the valley, and I remembered 
but one company who appeared unhappy. 

' I returned. I saw him whom I had seen 
ride forth in the pride of his strength, now an 
outcast and a vagabond. The multitude bowed 
not to him ; but as he slunk away from the view 
of men, it was evident that his haughty spirit 
had fallen. I saw him place the pointed steel 
to his breast, and heard him breathe out his last 
execration, ' Here, cursed ambition, end I 1 

1 1 saw him who had brooded over his treas- 
ures, and rejoiced in his glittering dust. His 
riches were corrupted ; his gold and silver were 
cankered ; and he wept and howled for the mis- 
eries that were come upon him. 

' He who had exulted in his possessions, in 
his farm, and in his merchandise, now lay on 
the bed of death. His flocks and his herds, and 
all his vast possessions, now gave him no pleas- 
ure, as he cried out in the bitterness of his spir- 
it, ■ What shall a man give in exchange for his 
soul?' 

' And now I saw the gross sensualist, and him 
who had tarried long at his wine, debased to the 
lowest depths of ignominy, too base to be class- 
ed with the brute creation. And while I view- 
ed their degradation, one passed me, whose 
countenance told plainly that remorse rankled 
in his bosom. ' Ah, me V said he, ' that fearful 
looking for of judgment ! I had a time, yes, I 
had a time to dance ; and now I have a ti; 
long eternity, to weep ! Instead of seeking the 
one thing needful, I glided down the smooth 



ALVAN STONE. 35 

stream of dark despair, beguiled by pleasures, 
thoughtless, careless, unconcerned. I had a 
price put into my hands to get wisdom, but I 
squandered it; and now, alas ! the door is shut 
against me ; and hope, mercy, joy, happiness, 
are gone forever !' 

1 Are these, thought I, the persons whom I 
supposed to be so happy ? If so, there is no 
happiness. 'Tis a phantom, a delusion ! But 
where are those I thought so foolish ? That 
gloomy, unhappy company ? I sought them : I 
found them. 1 heard them rejoice with joy un- 
speakable. I heard them say one to another, 
' Let us rejoice ; for now is our salvation nearer 
than when we believed. We will rejoice and 
be exceeding glad : for <iroat i- our reward in 
heaven.' And while I listened to their joy, I 
said, This alone is true happiness. And as I 
awoke from my reverie, I could not but exclaim, 
Let me die the death of the righteous, and let 
my last end be like hi 

Nov. 11, 189 

GREEK MAXIM. 

1 I have often thought of the Greek Maxim, 
" Be silent, or say something better than si- 
lence." And though at fir^t 1 thought but little 
about it, 1 have frequently had occasion since to 
remark, that it is not an unimportant maxim. 

1 The first salutation on meeting a friend or 
hbor, is generally, ' How d'ye do V Tl 
very well, and probably better than silence, if 
one means what he says : but the manner and 



36 MEMOIR OF 

appearance generally show, that it is little or 
nothing more than an unmeaning ceremony 
which custom demands. 

' The next remarks perhaps are made about 
the weather ; concerning which, criticisms are 
passed, such as, ( A raw day/ ' a cold day, 7 ' a 
hot day/ ' a severe day/ ' fine weather/ ' bad 
weather/ &c. All this perhaps does no hurt, 
though each knew the state of the weather ex- 
actly as well before ; but still, as it does not add 
one jot or tittle to their stock of knowledge, it is 
difficult to say whether it is better than silence. 

' Perhaps the next topic is concerning politics. 
The next President, the sitting of Congress, the 
tariff, furnish matter for conversation, together 
with foreign news, the present excitement, &c. 
&c. This kind of conversation is most gener- 
ally better than silence ; for it may add some- 
thing to one's knowledge, and serve to give a 
habit of correct thinking and reasoning. The 
dismission of ministers, formation of new socie- 
ties, and religion (though generally not heart re- 
ligion) as connected with these events, form a 
subject of talk. Upon this it is not best to 
judge ; for its utility will depend wholly upon 
the manner in which it is conducted. 

' If the conversation drags rather heavily, tales 
of slander are apt to be introduced. Somebody 
has done something wrong, or there is some- 
thing or somebody to find fault with. This 
kind of conversation is worse than silence. 

* When one sets himself up to be the spokes- 
man of the company, in which there are others 



ALVAN STONE. 37 

older and wiser than himself, and engrosses 
most of the attention by his forward remarks, he 
had better be silent. 

( When one feels himself moved by anger, to 
speak reproachfully to another, or in a manner 
unbecoming himself, he had better by all means 
be silent. 

' When conversation cannot be carried on, 
except at the expense of the characters or feel- 
ings of others, it is much better to be silent. 

{ I am satisfied that this maxim is not very 
generally observed ; and I am convinced that 
were it universally observed, there would be less 
mischief done, and vastly more solid knowledge 
obtained/ 

From a scrip on flattery, are extracted these 
few sentences, as worth preserving. 

ON FLATTERY. 

i In whatever light flattery is viewed, it ap- 
pears a vile, mean, low, debasing art. But by 
the term flattery, I would not be understood to 
mean exclusively the praising of one by express 
falsehood. In my opinion its meaning has far 
more latitude. Point me to a man who can 
praise his neighbor to his face, for qualities 
which he is sensible he does not possess, and 
you point me to a flatterer. 

' Show me one who at his fireside can talk of 

the faults and failings of his fellow man, or can 

blazon them abroad in his absence, but whose 

lips are sealed in silence when he is present, 

4* 



38 MEMOIR OF 

and whose independence of character does not 
prompt plainly to reprove, and you show me a 
flatterer. 

1 So much better does smooth flattery suit the 
hearts of most men, than plain reproof, there is 
reason to believe, that were men to be divided 
into two classes, flatterers and plain-hearted, the 
former class would be much the more numerous. 

' In short, to be clear from this servile vice, 
one needs the independent spirit which the 
prophet Nathan had, when he said to the royal 
transgressor, " Thou art the man ;" or which 
influenced Elijah, when he stood before the 
wicked Ahab.' 

March 23, 1829. 

Among the productions of his pen, which 
were dated at Ashfield, is found a review of Rev. 
Professor Wood's Lectures on Baptism, upon 
which Mr. S. made some pertinent remarks ; 
but as reviews by able hands have appeared be- 
fore the public, and as that work has had its 
day, it is deemed quite unnecessary to insert 
any portion of his review in this volume. This 
controversy will continue to be agitated by new 
publications, repeating old arguments which 
have been often refuted, until men shall accept 
the Bible as the only rule of Christian faith and 
practice, and then shall all the saints speak and 
mind the same things, and walk together in the 
light of the Lord. 



ALVAN STONE. 39 



CHAPTER V. 

Enlightening of the World — Midnight Reflections— Family 
Worship. 

Celebrating the praises of agricultural pur- 
suits, Mr. S. touches upon the important influ- 
ence of husbandmen in relation to the great en- 
terprises of benevolence for enlightening the 
world. 

' Among the many stations and professions of 
life, that occupation by which all others subsist, 
upon which all others depend, is generally least 
esteemed, least honored. It is true, there has 
been a Virgil who sung ' flocks and tillage,' a 
Cincinnatus who guided the plow with his own 
hand, and a Washington who delighted to leave 
the bustle of the camp or the duties of the cabi- 
net for the more peaceful employment of culti- 
vating the soil ; but the number of such, com- 
pared with those who look with contempt upon 
the pursuits of agriculture, is small. Indeed 
the sentence has gone forth, that man shall eat 
his bread in the sweat of his brow. But in the 
midst of judgment there was mercy ; and this 
very sentence proves a blessing ; for what class 
of persons can be found happier than those who 
till the soil ? And upon them, under Provi- 
dence, hang the destinies of nations. Not that 
other classes have no influence upon the politi- 
cal and moral condition of communities or na- 
tions ; but agriculturists being by far the most 
numerous, and the stamina of society, in order to 



40 MEMOIR OF 

produce any beneficial and permanent results in 
improving the condition of unenlightened na- 
tions, it is necessary to enlist and concentrate 
the energies and resources of this class of citizens. 

' If we take a general survey of the human 
family in its present state, we see much to be 
done. If we look westward, we see the savage 
in his native forest, pursuing the deer, or cruel- 
ly peeling the scalp from the head of his fallen 
enemy. War is his delight, and revenge his 
ruling passion. If we look eastward, we behold 
a cloud of thick darkness brooding over almost 
the whole eastern world. We hear in imagina- 
tion the horrid jargon of idol worship. We see 
the nations ground under the iron hand of des- 
potism, bound in the strong chains of supersti- 
tion, and many of them groping in the most 
heathenish darkness. Even the gales of the 
south waft to us the groans of the oppressed. 
We earnestly make the inquiry, What can be 
done ? What great changes are to take place ? 
And what, with the favor of Heaven, is to be 
the moving cause in this important work ? We 
have no hope that the condition of the savage 
will be bettered, till he relinquishes the chase, 
for the milder employments of agriculture. 
When he cuts down his forests and tills his 
ground, he may become a civilized being and a 
Christian. And it is the agriculturist from 
whom he is to learn the arts of husbandry, and 
at the same time, the principles of the gospel. 

1 We hope for the emancipation of the eastern 
world from the moral and spiritual darkness 



ALVAN STONE. 41 

which rests upon it. We look to the benign in- 
fluences and mild precepts of the gospel, to ef- 
fect this ; and we believe that the principles of 
true religion and the word of God are to be the 
pioneers in this work. But how shall they hear 
without a preacher ? and how shall they preach, 
except they be sent ? Here again it is obvious, 
that the illuminating of barbarous lands depends 
upon the great body of the people, the agricul- 
turists of enlightened lands. 

' But in order to effect any thing on an ex- 
tensive scale, there must be knowledge. It 
must be confessed, that notwithstanding the peo- 
ple of our country are in regard to means of 
knowledge more highly favored than other na- 
tions ; yet there is not that intelligence which 
might be, or that moral culture which ought to 
be, or that information which must be, before 
there will be a general united effort for the ame- 
lioration of the condition of the human family. 

' I would again press the importance of moral 
culture. It is important in every point of view, 
as well for individual enjoyment as for the good 
of communities ; as well in domestic life as in 
public stations. It is for want of this, in the 
great body of people in our land, that so little 
has hitherto been done for evangelizing the na- 
tions ; for it is found that those benevolent ope- 
rations which have as yet been set in motion, 
have received their support from those portions 
of the community where knowledge prevails 
most extensively. 

{ Let the means of gaining knowledge which 



42 MEMOIR OF 

are within the reach of the laboring class of citi- 
zens in our country, be improved to their full 
extent, and it is quite impossible to foretell the 
results. Let the advantages of literary instruc- 
tion be attended to as they ought, and informa- 
tion obtained to the degree it might be, and 
soon we should see our whole community arise, 
and with one firm and determined effort, break 
down every barrier opposing the progress of 
civilization and Christianity, and light and liber- 
ty, throughout the world. 

c Before this takes place, as I have said al- 
ready, there must be knowledge ; the mind of 
the body politic must be cultivated to a higher 
degree than it ever yet has been. I know that 
in order to produce any lasting results, the light 
of Christianity must gt> with the light of sci- 
ence ; but there must be moral culture, else 
scarce a glimmering of either will flash beyond 
the boundaries of our territory. But let the cul- 
tivation of the mind be extensive, and our whole 
community be thoroughly informed, and let each 
member of this community feel the moral obli- 
gation which rests upon him in relation to his 
fellow creatures, and there would be a unity of 
effort ; there would be a phalanx formed, which, 
aided by the Spirit of God, no power could with- 
stand, and before which the strong holds of ty- 
ranny, superstition and ignorance would fall, as 
the walls of ancient Jericho before the shouting 
Israelites. The light of Christianity and sci- 
ence would assuredly go forth to bless the na- 
tions. Then the red man of the forest would 



AL.VAN STONE. 43 

lay by his bow and arrows for the plow and 
spade, and the merciless cannibal satisfy the 
cravings of nature from the fruits of the earth. 
Then the sable sons of Africa would learn the 
arts of civilization, and the knowledge of the 
true God ; and while her native deserts would 
rejoice, her afflicted race in other lands would 
feel the power of sympathy and breathe the air 
of freedom. Then would the tawny worship- 
pers of Brumhu and the stupid adorers of every 
false god, cast their dumb idols to the devouring 
flames ; and the gospel trumpet, blown by the 
heralds of salvation, be heard to the remotest 
corner of the earth. And then the time would 
speedily come, when nation shall not rise against 
nation, nor learn war any more ; when swords 
shall be beaten into plowshares and spears into 
pruninghooks ; and instead of the shout of hos- 
tile chiefs rushing to combat, would be heard 
the sweet accents of mercy ; the wilderness 
would literally blossom like the rose, and the 
very desert become vocal with the high praises 
of God.' 
May, 1829. 

MIDNIGHT REFLECTIONS. 

1 A solemn silence reigns around. Nothing 
is to be heard, save the ticking of the clock, the 
chirping of the cricket, and the sighing of the 
wind through the branches of the trees. All 
around are sunk in the embrace of nature's 
sweet restorer, balmy sleep. Now probably the 
Greenlander is catching his short repose, while 



44 MEMOIR OF 

twilight continues to light his barren icebound 
land through the short interval of night ; and the 
Patagonian of gigantic stature whiles away the 
long and darksome night of a polar winter on 
his couch of skins. The slight Indian canoe is 
cutting its way through the eastern main of the 
Pacific, as the beams of the setting sun gently 
play upon its waters and gild the summits of the 
western mountains. The missionary on the 
Sandwich Islands, while bearing the burden and 
heat of the day, perhaps now thinks of his na- 
tive land, his friends, his home. The Chinese 
millions are now going forth to their afternoon 
employment ; some pluck and cure the tea leaf, 
some weave the glossy silk, and some mould the 
inimitable porcelain. Now the inhabitants of 
India gather themselves to their midday meal of 
rice or. yams, and the New Hollander riots on 
snakes and snails. 

' Perhaps at this moment a company of aston- 
ished Burmans, assembled around the zayat of a 
Judson, hear the word of life ; and perhaps even 
he who styles himself the ' lord of life and death, 
the owner of the sword/ is trembling on his 
throne, before the power of divine truth. The 
miserable exile of Siberia walks out, looks at the 
sun, and thinks that that sun shines on the land 
of his birth, a loved land to be seen by him no 
more, forever. Now perhaps the furious Turk 
girds on the battle armor, while legions of nod- 
ding plumes and Russian bayonets are advan- 
cing to the deadly encounter; or while death is 
poured forth from the mouths of a thousand can- 



ALVAN STONE. 45 

non, ' Allah houakibar,' ' Allah akbad/ resounds 
from the mosque of St. Sophia, the worship of 
the faithful followers of Mahomet. And just 
now the first rays of the morning sun penetrate 
the kraal of the Hottentot, and call from their 
slumbers the inhabitants of western Europe. 

' All these and more may now be going on, 
upon the different parts of this vast ball. And 
yet there is an eye that sees them all. There is 
One who at the same time watches over the 
slumbers of his people here, regards the morn- 
ing thoughts of the European, marks the foul 
idolatry of the East, decides the fate of nations 
in battle, and guides every thing, from the 
greatest to the smallest events, in the most har- 
monious and best possible manner. Who does 
not desire that such a One may be his friend? 
Wo to him who shall at last be found His enemy ! 

June 30, 1829. 

FAMILY WORSHIP. 

1 What more interesting scene can there be, 
than a household of the followers of Jesus at 
their family devotions ? What more lovely view 
can be pictured to the imagination, than the 
master of a family, or the Christian father, as- 
sembling the members of his house around the 
domestic altar, for the worship of God ? And 
where is the individual, whose heart has a sin- 
gle fibre which can vibrate at the touch of ten- 
der sensibility, who can remain unmoved at 
such a scene ; who can remain unaffected, 
while he hears the word of life, and sees the fa- 
5 



46 MEMOIR OF 

vored few bow in humility before the throne of 
grace, and hears, while all else is breathless 
stillness, the voice of earnest supplication invok- 
ing the blessings of Heaven to rest on the little 
band of suppliants, and imploring the mercy of 
God on a sin-darkened world ? Oh ! this is a 
scene which the pure angels of heaven delight 
to witness ! This is a place where humble souls 
and feeling hearts unite to form a heaven on 
earth ! This is a season when the united effec- 
tual prayer which avails so much is offered ; and 
when the mysterious wheel of Ezekiel's vision 
moves, conveying to heaven the incense of 
hearts, and returning to earth the richest of 
blessings ! This is a picture which the pencil 
of Raphael cannot paint, and which the imagi- 
nation can scarcely conceive ! 

c And yet there are those, whom the Lord has 
made rulers of households, who prize not the 
privilege of family worship, who feel not the hal- 
lowed sacredness thrown over the the' mind by 
the devotions of the family, nor know the sweet 
union of kindred hearts inspired by such devo- 
tions. They excuse themselves from that which 
is their greatest privilege, yet know it not. 
They neglect one of their greatest duties, yet 
heed it not, Were we to go through the land, 
even our own favored land, how many habita- 
tions should we find, where the fire of devotion 
never kindled on the family altar, or indeed 
where that altar never was erected ! How ma- 
ny ! But there are those of a different cast ; 
and though their number be few comparatively, 



ALVAN STONE. 47 

yet they are the salt of the earth. Were it not 
that the Lord has left us a seed, we should long 
ago have been as Sodom and Gomorrha.' 
July 14, 1829. 



CHAPTER VI. 

votary at Sanderson Academy, on the Duties and Respon- 
sibilities of literary Men — Poetic Address to him. 

Valedictory delivered at Sanderson Acade- 
my in Ashrield, Aug. 24, 182\), when Mr. S. 
left that institution to enter college at Amherst. 

DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES OF LITERARY MEN. 

1 Man is a creature constituted capable of im- 
provement, possessing a mind, at the commence- 
ment of his existence indeed in embryo, but in 
extent of improvement unbounded, the full and 
perfect developement of which it is impossible to 
limit. The fowl of the air can, without any 
teaching of art, construct her first nest as neatly 
and as well as after she has practiced for years. 
The beast of the forest can, without serving an 
apprenticeship, take his prey and practice his 
various art of instinctive cunning. But man, 
who was destined to be the lord of the creation, 
has an intellect, an immortal mind ; and this 
mind is ever unfolding, ever grasping more and 
more, but never satiated. 

' The first examples of attention to learning 
are found recorded on the pages of sacred histo- 



48 MEMOIR OF 

ry ; and though the early artificers first mention- 
ed were of the depraved race of Cain, still we 
may suppose that the pious then inhabiting the 
earth were far from remaining inactive with re- 
gard to the cultivation of the mind ; but perhaps 
they attended more to the sciences than the 
arts, as more calculated to give exalted views of 
the character of their Maker. 

' Egypt is next seen attending to learning, 
and more particularly to the arts, some of which 
it is probable were brought nearer to perfection 
than they are at the present day. But all her 
learning was connected with her religion, and 
poisoned by the foulest idolatry and superstition. 

' The plains of Babylon became in later times 
the residence of science ; and probably for a 
considerable time, the region whence the wise 
men of the east came, was advanced to that de- 
gree of refinement which, compared with some 
of the barbarous hordes on their borders, and 
even with many nations now existing, would not 
appear contemptible. 

' The literature of Greece nexts comes into 
notice. Here we might speak of the cultivation 
of mind exhibited in Homer, Demosthenes, So- 
crates, Plato, and a multitude of others; and 
might mention the works of art and genius pro- 
duced by learned Greece in the day of her glo- 
ry. But it is sufficient to say, that though she 
shone with brilliancy, her learning, instead of 
teaching her to renounce idolatry, was rather in- 
corporated with it ; and her glory passed away. 

1 Rome followed in the footsteps of Greece. 






ALVAN STONE. 49 



She had her geniuses, and patronized literature 
and the arts ; but she also used learning to patch 
up her miserable system of idolatry ; and she 
too has passed away. 

' Succeeding the light of science furnished by 
Rome was a gloomy night, well termed the dark 
ages, in which learning and literature seemed 
almost blotted out by barbarism and ignorance ; 
but still in this dark interval there were hidden 
sparks which needed only the fanning breeze to 
kindle into a flame. 

' After four or five centuries of darkness, at 
length, in the fourteenth century commenced 
the revival of letters : and ill the fifteenth cen- 
tury was produced that splendid invention, the 
art of printing, which has contributed more to 
the dissemination of knowledge than all other 
arts united. This is the grand machine which 
electrifies the nations, whose shocks are at this 
moment felt by millions and million-, not in< 

paralyzing, but awakening and quickening the 

too long dormant powers of the mind. And 

though in many nations of ( nristendom the 
r of the press is controlled by monarchal 
parasites; yet it will, like a raging but hidden 
Volcano, heave and rock and toss, till it breaks 
forth with increased power, and prostrates to- 
gether the relics of ignorance and the ensigns of 
ilty. 
1 The reformation begun by Luther tended in 
nail degree to the advancement of learning, 
by sending abroad a spirit oi' inquiry, and incit- 
ing all classes to think for themselves. From 
5* 



50 MEMOIR OF 

that time to the present we find knowledge to 
have been on the increase, though now exten- 
sive knowledge is far from being universal, and 
many fair portions of the earth are defaced by 
ignorance and idolatry. 

' After taking a cursory view of the progress 
of learning from the earliest ages to the present, 
and seeing through the lapse of time some ex- 
amples of the triumphs of intellect, but the more 
general prevalence of ignorance ; and after look- 
ing around upon our schools, academies, colle- 
ges, and other means of education, and sending 
our thoughts abroad to other portions of our 
globe ; it is easy to advert to the duties and res- 
ponsibility of literary men. 

c The literature of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, 
was connected with their systems of religion, 
false and absurd as they were, and therefore it 
was not desirable under such circumstances that 
it should be extended. Their reasonings, often 
founded on false philosophy, were incorrect ; 
and their wisdom became foolishness. Their 
aims also in the application of their learning 
were too generally self-exaltation ; -and with no 
higher aim, the end of their learning was almost 
total extinction, aud of their government utter 
downfall. Literature and religion, when incor- 
porated together, ever hang upon each other as 
dead weights ; and science can never flourish, 
when made a substitute for religion. 

1 But our literature being free from these in- 
cumbrances, courts dissemination. It is not re- 
ligion ; but when guided and restrained within 



\ i \ 5 I 

r 1)01111(1-;, it i< the kandmoid of trim relig- 
ion. One of i d tendencies of the Chris- 
tian religion is, the diffusion of knowledge J and 

cannot long exist without her 
taining hand. Tl ing connect- 

ed with ;inv false system of religion, literature 
can now safely be spread abroad : and certainly 
no one, at least in this assembly, will deny that 
true religion ought to he disseminated. 

1 Tl sion of the blessingsof religion, 

literature, and , is the duty of the litera- 

ry man. The tim een, when men could 

make duty extend but a little way ; when they 
could limit their sphere of action to a very nar- 
circle. But that time has passed away. 
Duty is now beginning to be better understood. 
The | is emphatically an age of action ; 

and one i v years ago would have been 

e foremost, can now hardly be 
reckoned in rd. 

he literary and benevolent man lias for his 
sphere of action the world ; and as the ob 
of hi- olence, the whole human family. 

- called to act at a period, wh main 

idle and inactive would constitute a crime of no 
small magnitude ; and as he has much to do, it 

that lie be well nerved and bl 
to the work. 

1 Among I . • numerous requisites to < i 
action, to whi calls the li: u, is 

ikind are not brought off 
from • - and long establic 

ieous opii ithout an 



52 MEMOIR OF 

will deny that they have these, though each may 
say for himself that he has none ? Here the en- 
lightened man, if he fulfills the obligations de- 
volving upon him, is tested ; for I am persuaded, 
that it requires more moral courage to stem the 
tide of popular opinion, than to face the cannon's 
mouth. The soldier, as he marches up to the 
deadly breach, is perhaps accompanied by a host 
of other brave spirits, and is supported by a cer- 
tain enthusiasm and thirst for glory. But to 
stand forth as it were single handed against pop- 
ular prejudices of whatever nature, sensible of 
the strong current opposing, requires courage of 
the noblest kind. Those who have hitherto 
benefitted mankind, have ever been in advance 
of the age in which they lived, and were such as 
could dare to be singular, as Columbus, Galileo, 
and Martin Luther. Such must they be that 
are yet to benefit mankind, and such the litera- 
ry man ought to be. 

c Popular vices as well as popular prejudices 
must experience the frown of learning and the 
decided disapprobation of the philanthropist. 
That appalling vice which has so alarmingly 
prevailed in our land, but which has now evi- 
dently received the death blow, may serve as an 
example, that success follows in the track of ef- 
fort. There needs be no despondency on this 
subject; but if each watchman is found at his 
post, and all those upon whom this reform de- 
pends, on the alert, very soon popular vices, to- 
gether with the arbitrary sway of fashion, wherev- 
er they infringe in the least on health, prosperi- 



i the princi] I, would be 

d only in aame. 
1 The il ii 1 1« a of men of talent and leanrin j 

ration of popolai error. 

B llV(3 

country called enl I, there can h 

Mich thing as error 1.- \ l y true we do not 

n v thing like the Salem witchcraft, nor ma- 
rrow prevalent in other land- : 
but that tirely free from error, 

is what every sensible and reflecting man would 
be unwilling to assert. And even if this coun- 
try were free from error, there can enough be 
seen abroad to excite the sympathies and arouse 
the moral energies to the highest pitch. 

1 To moral courage ought to be connected be- 
nevolence, an earnest desire for the good of 
mankind. Feeling his accountableness to his 
Maker, this will appear as well a duty as a sub- 
ind heavenly virtue ; and without it, efforts 
will be made at random. The literary man, un- 
der the influence of this, ought to strain every 
nerve and put forth every possible effort ; and if 
he does this, he feels more than compensated by 
the pleasure arising merely from t^e performance 

• Then to all this, in the character of the man 
. must he added an undaunted per- 

iution. This is indis- 

ble. 11 it one time | moral 

ige sufficient to look down all opposition ; 

but if he is soon discouraged, it is of no avail. 

iay possess at times a true benevok m 



54 MEMOIR OF 

but if that benevolence is not untiring, he acts 
with but little success. But let unceasing ef- 
fort succeed, and results will be produced most 
glorious. 

' As the duties of literary men are most clear 
and explicit, so are their responsibilities numer- 
ous and weighty. Contrast the state of our hap- 
py country with what it would be, were our 
schools, colleges, and other free institutions blot- 
ted out, and you have some idea of the responsi- 
bilities of the literary man. Then contrast the 
present state of the world with what we fully be- 
lieve it will be in the day of millenial glory, and. 
you have some conception of the duties and res- 
ponsibilities of the literary man. 

' It is his, to preserve, perpetuate, and im- 
prove our literary institutions and civil liberty ; 
to mould the character and form the principles 
of the thousands of youth in our country, and 
thereby direct a nation. It is his, to send the 
blessings of civilization and liberty to the mill- 
ions who are elevated but little above the brutes. 
It is his, to renovate the world. And now what 
shall deter him from so high employments ? 
What shall hinder him from fulfilling these high 
responsibilities and duties ? Shall the splendid 
equipage and guady trappings of wealth ? Shall 
selfish ease and carnal pleasure? Shall the 
trump of fame, turn him aside from so noble 
purposes ? No. Let not wealth be even nam- 
ed ; neither let self-gratification nor love of ap- 
plause be put in competition with so high and 
hallowed aims. But let him use those means 



\i,\ >\r.. 56 

and make those efforts which the present 

of things demands ; and guid the Ban of 

tellite of science and the 

nnot foil to su< ceed. 

Fellow Btudenl 

k We have for some length of time been as- 

Lted within this institution, lor the purpose 

of engaging in literary pursuits; and we too 

free laid ourselves under the 

obligations and duties attached to the literary 

character. We are now about to separate from 

this place and each other ; and though the time 

we have spent together has been comparatively 

short, yet associations have been formed and 

principle's cherished, known only to those in 

similar circumstances, and which the lapse of 

time can never obliterate. We go from this 

place, but we do not go beyond the calls of du- 

we do not lose the power of influence. Yes, 

fellow students, we are to exert an influence, of 

it of which perhaps we are not fully 

aware. We have already exerted an influence 

here, either for truth or error, for piety and 

virtue or for infidelity and vice, which will be 

> the latest periods of time and through the 

unthounht-of ages of eternity. 

4 We shall probably none of us wear a crown 

)tre. We may not speak in sen- 

. or be placed at the head of armies. But 

ic of us, who by the pen will 

than are now at the com- 

Grand Turk, ami govern i 

id even an ; who 



56 MEMOIR OF 

will disarm the murderous duelist, or paralyze 
the arm of the ferocious slave-driver ; break the 
rod of despotism, or produce sucii vast concus- 
sions in the moral world as shall shake and pu- 
rify the atmosphere of nations. All this is pos- 
sible, and consequently our aims ought to be 
high. 

* But above all, there is a kingdom yet to be 
established throughout the earth, boundless as 
the universe, reaching to every part of this globe 
lighted by the luminary of heaven. I need not 
tell you this is the kingdom of Immanuel. I 
need not tell you that the Prince of princes, the 
King of kings, is the ruler of this kingdom. 
You know it already. But who of us are to 
stand forth enrolled in the ranks of this mighty 
Prince ? Who, to advance under the already 
unfurled banner of the cross, against the infer- 
nal host marshalled by the arch-adversary ? Be 
assured this calls for decision. This earth, 
which is now an Aceldama, is to become a 
Bethel, a dwelling place of righteousness ; and 
the peaceful reign of the millenial day is yet to 
bless the earth. 

6 Then let us, when we separate from this 
place and each other, go forth with the convic- 
tion that we have a part to act. And let us go 
forth with the determination ever to be found on 
the side of truth, virtue and godliness, persever- 
ingly engaged in the path of duty to the full ex- 
tent of our power ; and whether our bones at 
last lie in the peaceful quiet of a New England 
churchyard, or bleach on the scorching sands of 



u.\ \\ BTONE. 

Africa, or rest od the rough bed of th< 
we may hope lion to a 

crown incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth 
not away. My ; irewell. 

• To the patrons of this institution, who 
reanul i I la for the encouragement 

of literature ; and to you, our respected and be- 
loved preceptor, whose instructions we ha?< 

often received, whose counsels we have so rich- 
ly enjoyed, and whose memory we shall ever 
hold dear, I would, in the name of my fellow 
stud i e well.' 

' To Mr. Alvan Stone. 
1 Dear brother, 

1 Let knowledge take possession of thy breast 
On ?ii •-, enjoy thy R->t. 

tdom all dh 
erne felicities do here combine. 

Not all the rn_ that blow, can move 

[>ure and heavenly, fired with p 
O let khil ll inspire, 

And sacred peace In 

am not of titles, honors, wealth, and fame ; 
re but an empty name. 
In heaven bJom yoai confidence rep< 

-••lation for your * 

Ashfield. 17 

Agreeable to the sentii pressed by a 

de friend in I - the 

Spirit and sentiment and course of our beloved 
6 



58 MEMOIR OF 

Stone. Knowledge, piety, communion with 
God, and meetness for heaven, engaged his chief 
attention. He lived as a stranger and a pilgrim 
on earth, despising its distinctions and glory so 
far as they do not subserve the great purposes of 
Our existence. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Epistolary Correspondence — To Mr. J. R. B. on Christian 
Faithfulness — He thinks of the Ministry — Enters College'—- 
To Mr. D.I. a kind Admonition — Extravagancein Dress— 
A prevalent Evil. 

Mr. S. possessed an uncommon facility for 
epistolary correspondence. His letters were 
many, and they were all peculiarly interesting. 
Though some of them are of great length, being 
written from a fruitful mind and an affectionate 
heart ; yet they are too interesting to be weari- 
some to the reader. Few of them are presented 
entire ; but copious extracts have been made 
from them, which are interspersed with his 
journals and other writings, arranged generally 
in the order of their particular dates. In his 
letters will be discovered his humble, frank, be- 
nevolent, pious, and affectionate spirit. And in 
his journals will be perceived his entire dissatis- 
faction with his present attainments in the Chris- 
tian course, and his longings after holiness. 
Hence proceeded those lamentations over him- 
self, and that diffidence of his own piety, which 
may seem perhaps to some to cast a shade over 



ALVW ITONE. 

but which are in reality a far 
more satisfactor] iodic i renewed 1 

nr boastful annunciations of 
erful riewa and < itraordinary ex| 

I k had man 5, and highly val- 

ued then communications, especially in relation 
to the >!]. In a letter from llli- 

you do not write to 
me. think 1 grudge giving 25 cents to 

from you, or what is the matter ? Letter 
news from a friend is not merely deal tome in a 

:iiary point of view, but is clear to my heart. 
I will, if yon please, attribute your neglect this 

r to the coldness of the climate. But if, 
by the time this reaches you, Cummington gets 
thawed out, so that the frogs peep, as they do 

now, I hope that you will sit right down to 
your "desk and write me a long letter, and tell 
me every thing that has taken place since I left." 

Tho attachment he felt to certain of his fel- 
-tudents at Ashfied, induced him to hold 
correspondence with them to the end of life. Tn 
some of his letters to them, he seems to have 
laid open all the best feelings of his heart, and 
expressed himself without reserve. No doubt 
they reci but none of 

their letters to him are to be found, and there- 
eannot be here displayed to the inqaisitife 
read 



60 MEMOIR OF 

To Mr. J. R. B. 

'Goshen, Sept. 21, 1829. 
* Dear brother, 

c It is not from the walls of a college, but from 
my own home, that I write to you ; and I write 
because I feel constrained to write. Some sense 
of the opportunities I have had of doing good in 
Ashfield, and of my misimprovement, have come 
over me. I want to write that you may be more 
careful and diligent than I have been ; and O 
brother, let me say, " take heed." When I 
consider the time I have passed with that fami- 
ly,* and think how little 1 have exhorted and 
warned those who I have reason to believe are 
without hope and without God, and how little I 
have been decided to reprove, when I have seen 
an unchristian spirit manifested, I am astonish- 
ed ! But the worst is yet to mention. Had my 
walk and conversation, my daily deportment 
been such as it ought, I should have felt more 
earnest to do my duty. 

6 And then the thought that there are souls in 
that school going the way of death, and whom I 
shall probably never have another opportunity to 
warn, and perhaps never again see, till the Arch- 
angel's trump shall sound, suggests the sharp in- 
quiry, Ah, why was I not more engaged ? and 
produces sensations not easily described. And 
yet I could see them float along the current of 
time, knowing their dreadful end, knowing they 



* In which he boarded at Ashfield, when there at school. 



61 

bound fbi destruction, with b strange indif- 
ference. Amazing! And if Christians do nod 
feel alarmed at the condition <>t impenitent sin- 
j fee] alarmed tor themselves I No. 
will pass on in security, and rejoice in the 
sympathetic stupidity of Christians, and love the 
them to destruction. 
1 ( I let 118 then be awake and do our duty, 
that the blood of lay not be required at 

our hands. What duties 1 have left undone, 
you must do, and me every thing L have 

wrong between yon and me. I know not 
bow sopn I shall be careless ; but think I feel 
now determined to be more circumspect. You 
pray for me. Tell brother P. to press on 
idy and godliness. -May yon be blest of 
ven. Farewell. A. Sto* 

The work of the gospel ministry arrested the 

conversion to 
Christ He viewed it a high and holy calling, 
! qualifications lor the piopcr 
•ligations ; and b< 
riously meditated going t i the Hamilton Litera- 
ry and Theological Institution, N. ST. or to the 
ical Institution, Mass. for the 
ration to the work. But in 
irtnity with the desires of his family, h< 

the coll ' , on the '1 1th of 

: in which he held a resp Cta- 

itudenl -iiid a ian, until 

termination to 
rt to the West, and there pursue his litera- 
te 



62 ' MEMOIR OF 

ry studies in connection with personal opera- 
tions as he should have opportunity, to do good 
in that needy region. 

To Mr. D. I. 

' Amherst, Oct. 5, 1829. 
c Dear Brother, 

' I now write you from my study-room in col- 
lege, which I entered on the 24th of last month. 

' 1 trust you are living in the exercise and en- 
joyment of religion. But I must tell you 5 that 
before we left Ashfield, you had. lost a consider- 
able share of that feeling which you appeared to 
possess for some time before ; and 1 reproach 
myself with having been instrumental in influ- 
encing your mind unfavorably. Now, that you 
will not be drawn away by me, you must be en- 
gaged again. You too know what it is to watch 
and pray for the soul of a brother ; and I trust 
it will appear at last, that we have not prayed in 
vain. O how soon we shall be done laboring 
and praying ; and have no more opportunity of 
doing good to our friends and the world. And 
does not this call us to do with our might ? And 
then our obligation to God our Saviour, how 
ought that to excite us! His dying love, his 
mercy to us now ! O who can tell how we 
ought to plan and execute good ? If we are 
safe in Jesus, and he should take us now, have 
we prayed as much for our friends as we wish? 
Should we not wish to offer one more fervent 
prayer ? Should we not wish to do something 



\i.\ w BTON i . 

for him I Then let us be i 

cam I much. 

1 Oft D my thou 

field. My room and room-mates present thera- 

:ny \ iew : the lull I li >'ii walk- 

ed over; the pleasant fields I hare so often 
ir in imagination the sound of the 
bell, and as 1 walk along down I see brother I. 
and P. and other of my friends coming along tin. 1 
plain. All these present to my mind so true a 
picture of days gone by, that when J awafa 

re, and find myself at Amherst, it makes 

me 1. Ami shall I never see those 

never. hall we meet 

in. lint let this idea make us 

so engaged, that we shall meet in a far happier 

place, in heaven. Farewell. 

A. Stonf .' 

In one of his manuscripts he remarks thus ; — 
" \V1; n J may occupy in life, I am 

to rememher, that I am a sworn enemy to « \- 
trava_ ;d display in dress and fashion, 

whenever it infringes in the least on health, 
happiness, and prosperity. My heart sickens, 
while I think of the appearance of some church 
members. 

Though the following 
Mr. S. has m it presented some thoughts worthy 

>n. It was written at 
1 8*). 



64 MEMOIR OF 

A PREVALENT EVIL. 

' Who, that reflects on what was the state of 
our country a short time since, with regard to 
intemperance, can refrain from shuddering ? 
Who, that is patriotic, that is a lover of his 
country, can think of the strides that intemper- 
ance was making in this goodly land, and not 
tremble ? Our happy country was indeed fast 
verging towards the vortex of destruction. The 
cry of suicide with ten thousand voices had risen 
to heaven, calling loudly for vengeance. The 
dashing waves were already hurrying her on in 
horrid circles to the roaring whirlpool ; the low- 
ering cloud, black with wrath, had gathered in 
the heavens ; when the alarm is given, the warn- 
ing is heard, and she is awaked to her situation, 
and roused to stem the torrent, and is saved 
from the horrible maelstroom which had well 
nigh engulphed her. Our country is saved. 
She now retraces her steps ; and though her 
way is strown with the carcasses and skeletons 
of the fallen, yet she is certainly on the return. 

' It is- said of a certain successful monarch, 
that after having subdued the then known world, 
he wept because he could conquer no more. 
But is it so with us ? After having assisted in 
reforming our country of this evil, and while we 
still continue to lend our influence to the same 
effect, can we look around and see nothing more 
of the kind to be done ? Is there no form of 
crime which, as Scipio's ghost, walks unreveng- 
ed among us ? How come those pretty, airy, 



AI.\ \\ 

ogled forma that meet ti i oft- 

en I \\ - • : i;it look of CODSOm] 

that catting pain, that dis -_ r h I 

Whither] the ruby color that onc< 

•iters of the puritans 1 And 'hark I 
that knell ! that h< Why is it I ' Hash ! 

hush r It ia anbe* 

Comin another. 'Better leave it 

third. ir superi )tsJ All ! this delic 

delicacy ! There is an evil among 08, 
id as our population, open and man 
it, and even courted and admired ; and 
• must not be mentioned ; ' 'twill offend ;' 
unpopular. 1 You may see, (with admira- 
tion or disgust, as you please :) you may think, 
but bj speak. Did I say, think? No, 

you must not think, lest the alarming truth 
should force you to speak. " O mores I" And 
icre no one who can speak of the 
blood of it< victims, standing in rosy drops on 
the walls of dressing-rooms and mirrors of toil- 
or tell of unearthly voices and flitting spec- 
^bout the dwellings of those who lead the 
rid ? Can no parallel be drawn 
en this evil and the iiri n< 1 i n it servitude of 
that portion of our race wl ringa we pro- 

3 i much to commiserate, or even with that 

i the prison- 

', soul and body, the victim of the cup I < I 

for once I could the eloquence of 

Dem« O that I could speak in tones 

loud as heaven's artillery, that the abhorrence 

which my soul feela at -uch foul unchristian 



66 MEMOIR OF 

practices might break forth and rend the veil 
which blinds men's eyes ! 

1 It is said, that the poor degraded African, 
who is torn from home and sold into hopeless 
bondage, can never be reproached with having 
brought this misery on himself. And so it is. 
Ask the drunkard why he destroys himself with 
strong drink. He will tell you he loves it ; it 
gratifies his appetite ; makes him feel well, &c. 
But what reason can be given for girding and 
vexing the human frame, and torturing nature ? 
What excuse for choking the streams of life, 
and laying a train to the magazine of disease 
and death ? It cannot be present comfort. Di- 
rectly the reverse. No ; * it is taste/ 'tis said. 
If this be taste, what may not be taste ? How 
long may it be, before the neck will be the seat 
of taste, and be compressed to half its size ? 
Then will the halter be a comely ornament ; and 
our American fair may stop the vital current in 
less time still. 

' Much as I detest extravagance and vain dis- 
play in dress, and sinful as it is, let it not be 
mentioned in comparison with this sin. I would 
rather see the covering of the head increased to 
thrice the size of a grain-fan, with top knots 
and fly traps of the dimensions of a magnolia in 
full bloom, and the superfluities on a single in- 
dividual sufficient to clothe a village of suffering 
Greeks, than to see living corpses suffering with 
ligatures more fatal than the folds of the anacon- 
da. And what can be done 1 I apprehend that, 
as in the kindred cause of intemperance, thou- 



AM \\ 

nndi are ready to cry, ( Nothing, nothing. Dis- 
approbation on tin- subject is wholly uncalled 
for. There's no need of this alarm V Well 
then, [] health. Let beavi 

to man he immolated in silence at this shrine of 
b, Stld ifl of those whose hardy 

frames achieved our liberty become a puny race, 
I and disease entailed by folly. 
Let no one speak of heathen customs, heathen 

practices. Let no one henceforth reproach the 

hindoo widow, whose tortures are so short, or 

ridicule the flat-head or painted and tattooed 

je or crippled Let the Christian 

name be divorced from such unchristian practi- 

and in the sanctuary, instead of the name 
of the Jiving God, be written 'Fashion.' Nay 
rather, let the voice of reason be heard, and con- 
science be allowed to act. And if the alarming 
truths which are so plain to all but those who 
will be blind, if this be not enough, let the blue 
canop iven be changed to sable curtains, 

eral mourning for the 
perversion of ber finest work ; and on the grave- 
stone of every sacrifice of pride and fashion, let 

/( be written in letters of flaming fire, till 
our whole country shall become one lightrhoi 
and each _ 'I a lasting beacon to warn the 

living to be v. are.' 



68 MEMOIR OF 



CHAPTER VIII. 

To Mr. D. I. on a revival at Ashfield, and dying Testimony of 
Miss Mary T. — Commences his Journal — To Mr. D. I. on 
the Want of Laborers — Fasting, and Prayer for Colleges. 

During the winter vacation of college Mr. S. 
made a visit to his friends in Ashfield, where he 
wrote the following letter to a beloved former 
fellow student in the academy at that place, who 
was then absent, and occupied in teaching a 
school. 

To Mr. D. I. 

< Ashfield, Jan. 21, 1830. 

* Christian brother, 

c I am now in the midst of a revival, where 
the mighty power of God is manifest in the sal- 
vation of souls. I came here about a week 
since, and expect to leave town tomorrow. I 
find some rejoicing in hope, some inquiring, 
and some hardened, though perhaps not an indi- 
vidual whose feelings are not in some measure 
harrowed up. If you are not now engaged with 
a school, start off immediately, when you receive 
this, for Ashfield ; and if you are, when your 
school closes do not stay at home, for you can 
do good here, and there is no release. Our 
Presbyterian friends are not in want of help, 
and they act right and wisely ; and shall the 
truth suffer by the unconcern of its friends? 
Above all things, we want souls saved ; and I 
hope that this, together with the glory of God, 



will be the grand < ad our great end. But, 

brother I. there is the We 1 know that 

ions truth l>y th 
strumentality of th ise who hold lesser en 

ikely to imbib 
shall not ire, who believe we have the whole 
truth. vc in th of < rod I 1 hope 

h ill come here immediately and labor for 

• I bavi il you of the dying testimony 

■ the truth. You know .Mary T*****. 
know how much she reined by 

all, and what an ornament she was considered to 
D Mr. S***** *'s church. She is now, if 
living, .it the f death : and for about 

lution lias been expected 
day to day, and sometimes from hour to 
hour. < h i_ r about a week -ince,a young 

I I terian family called in to 

her; and while in another room with some 
of the family, views of bap- 

other th;; " My Bible 

makes me a ! and I rant be any thing 

thing else but a This was spoken BO 

m. " Mi 

• by her bedside, " did you 
,i tel i »*** tor(1 . 

r **** ( >ow," 

the Bible ; ->\\u\ 1 want 
ir Bible, and do 
.vard and do vour duty. < I 
Bible. My Bible made me a Baptist J 



70 MEMOIR OF 

saw that that way was right, and was convinced 
from the Bible that other ways were not right. 
But I thought, if some other way would do for 
others, it would do for me. But O, ****, you 
cannot think what horrors of mind I have had, 
for going contrary from what I w T as convinced 
was most scriptural ; and I have ever trembled, 
when members have been admitted to Mr. 
S #### **'s church, though a member there my- 
self. If God would spare my life, the first thing 
I would do, when able, would be, to obey him 
by being baptized." 

1 The truth coming from such a person as 
Mary T**** # , and at such a time, when it 
seems as if coming from eternity, from one of so 
fine a mind and so distinguished abilities and at- 
tainments, it would seem must have an effect; 
and I trust it will have an effect. But brother 
I. what effect can the truth have on a heart cas- 
ed (I do not say in unbelief) in * non-essentials V 
Ah ! there are no non-essentials on the death- 
bed ! None of the commands of God are non- 
essential there. 

' I mentioned the one who called on Mary, as 
being convinced of the truth. I would also 
mention, that although our Baptist brethren 
have not in a single instance to my knowledge 
conversed with the young converts on the sub- 
ject, yet these converts are very bold to declare 
the truth ; and are, so far as I know or have 
heard of any sentiment being expressed, univer- 
sally, in Presbyterian families too, born Baptists. 



ALVAN STONE. 1 I 

Brother I. pray tor as. Pray tor tlio truth erery 
where, especially for the salvation of souls. We 
amble ; yes, humble, I > r « » t 

1 lours with the highest sentiments of lore 

and • A. > 

It is no new thing that converts are ' born 
Baptists.' How Bhould it he otherwise with 
who read the Bible I For in it the way of 
holiness is so plainly described, that " the way- 
faring men, though fools, shall not err therein. " 

Xo regular journal is found among Mr. 
Stones papers, of an earlier date than his sec- 
ond term at Amherst college, extracts from 
which are inserted under their respective dates. 

'Amherst, Feb. I, 1830, The first day of 
the term. If I can live soberly, righteously and 
godly through this term, I may do good ; if not, 
1 probably shall do injury. Now let me watch 
and pray, hourly watch and pray. 

1 7. Is there a heaven and a hell ? Is time 
so short and eternity so long ? Then how does 
it become me How does it becom- 

to look on the things which are not seen ? To 
ith concerning which, I 
have heard this day from 1 John v. 4. " And 
that overcometh the world, 
our faith L 1, wilt thou 'jw i 
faith that overcometh the world, works by love, 
and purifies the heart; even of thy rich mercy 
and free grace give it. An 



72 MEMOIR OF 

c 12. Let this day amend the past. Let the 
things of the world hold less sway, the things of 
eternity have more weight, and my studies and 
all that I do be made subservient to the glorv of 
God. 

' 19. What good results from attending meet- 
ings '? Every moment ought to be turned to 
good account. An hour or an hour and a half 
each evening for four evenings in the week 
should certainly bring some benefit. These are 
seasons for preparing for heaven. They are 
seasons for growing in grace, — for becoming 
more and more assimilated to the character of 
the holy Saviour. If these seasons are not im- 
proved to some good purpose, what time else is 
there ? How fast time rolls on ! It seems but 
a day as it were, when I looked forward to man- 
hood, as to eternity since. While chasing the 
butterfly or plucking the wild flowers with those 
companions some of whom have long slumbered 
in the grave, I then thought old age never to 
come. Those days of innocent joy, when will 
they return ? O never. Man never can be 
young but once. Those companions .of my 
childhood, where are they? Scatteied to the 
east and the west, the north and the south, and 
some in eternity. Yes, I shall see them all 
again. O may we be prepared for the inter- 
view ! 



ALVAN STONE. 73 

To Mr. D. I. 

'Amherst, Feb. 21, 1830. 
1 Christian brother, 

1 i have waited now some time in anxious ex- 

tion of receiving a letter from you; but I 

hear from the postmaster the same reply, ' No 

letter/ Although you have not answered my 

I shall trouble you with another, that you 

may see your neglect, and act accordingly. 

1 There is a great deficiency among members 
of our denomination with regard to general in- 
telligence concerning revivals, missionary opera- 
tions, increase, number and state of our church- 
es, Sabbath Schools, and other benevolent ob- 
jects and projects of the day. Now to remedy 
this, I mean to begin at home; and I want you 
to write to me concerning revivals in any place 
of which you know, especially among our own 
denomination. 

1 When I look around and see the desolations 

of Zion and how many laborers are wanted, I 

am almost discouraged. How full of meaning 

is that command, " Pray ye therefore the Lord 

of the harvest, that he would send forth laborers 

into his harvest." This, brother I. we too much 

neglect ; and our brethren too much neglect it. 

tew of our Baptist brethren pray for collc- 

i rid other literary institutions. And can we 

expect that the fruits of revivals in colleges will 

be cast into that scale which we consider to be 

right, unless we pray for those revivals? J want 

-hould awaken, as far as in you lies, a deep 

1* 



74 MEMOIR OF 

feeling on this subject, and stir up our brethren 
and sisters, yes, and fathers and mothers too, to 
pray that the talent now unsanctified which is 
embodied in our institutions of learning, may be 
sanctified by God and consecrated to the cause 
of truth. 

1 I am at present reading ecclesiastical histo- 
ry ; and often, when reading an account of the 
persecutions, I pause to ask myself whether such 
trials would not separate me from my profession. 
Those were time's that tried men's souls. How 
would such a persecution as Nero's scatter the 
church now, and fan away its chaff! You and 
I may yet see such a persecution. We may be 
called upon to lay down our lives for the truth ; 
and should we endure ? It is most likely that 
the two witnesses mentioned in Revelation are 
not yet slain; and who can tell what may take 
place then ? O we need to watch and pray, 
that that time may not come on us unawares. 
Had we the feelings and character of the apos- 
tles, it would matter little whether there were 
persecutions or not. It seems to me important, 
that we should strive to assimilate our character 
and conduct to that of Christ and his apostles. 
If preachers should do this, (and you I suppose 
will soon be one ;) if preachers, I say, should 
act and preach like the apostles, (and this is not 
impossible as it regards the preaching of the 
gospel,) we should see like effects. 

' * I hope you will soon favor me with a letter, 
if you have not already written. We have been 
enough together not to be afraid of each other. 



ALVAN STONE. TS 

1 wish your prayers for myself and this college. 
Farewell. A. Stoh 

'P. S. Mr. F. requests me to inform you that 
- waiting patiently for a letter from you. 

We have frequent friendly chats upon sentiment. 
He is rather tenacious of his principles ; and 
you know that I cannot concede what I think to 
be the truth. If you can any way get Loomis' 
works on baptism, I wish you would, and send 
them to me, as I think I can place them where 
they will do good. I wish by all means you 
would procure his first work in support of infant 
sprinkling, together with his last for believers* 
baptism. I know not where I can get them.' 

Mr. S. was decidedly and firmly a Baptist, 
without shame or fear ; for he had adopted his 
sentiments from a personal inquiry at the sacred 
Scriptures, which he esteemed the infallible Or- 
acles of God, and which he received as the lamp 
of his feet and the only sure guide to holiness, 
happiness, and heaven. What he believed and 
practiced as the dictate of the Bible, that he, 
like an honest man, was solicitious to have all 
others believe and practice. When a member 
of college, he very seriously made proposition to 
pledge himself reciprocally with a fellow stu- 
dent, to embrace and obey without reserve or 
hesitation whatever they might find declared and 
enjoined in the inspired volume. 

4 Feb. *25. Fasting seems to have been a cus- 
tom in the church from the earliest ages, not 



76 MEMOIR OF 

only by individuals, but at times by the church 
as a body. David, Daniel, and many other ho- 
ly men of old, were accustomed to fast, and re- 
ceived strength and encouragement in their god- 
ly course thereby. The primitive Christians 
were accustomed, it appears, to fast very often, 
though we do not find that they considered 
themselves bound to observe any particular time 
for that object, as soon was the case when the 
church began to be corrupted. The practice 
seems to have been so perverted by the Romish 
church, that when the church of England broke 
off from her communion and cast away some of 
her superstitions, fasting being so perverted was 
almost wholly laid aside, though doubtless there 
were very many individual exceptions. 

* How many blessings have flowed in conse- 
quence of the fastings and prayers of God's peo- 
ple. How appropriate then to set apart a day of 
fasting and prayer for colleges. This practice 
was commenced about twenty years since, and 
this day is the anniversary. Who can tell what 
consequences are depending on this day ? Mil- 
lions yet unborn may feel them, and nations 
now unknown may be influenced by them. Let 
me pursue the thought. One perhaps in this 
institution may, by a right improvement of this 
day and the descent of the Holy Spirit upon 
him, be incited to look abroad upon the desola- 
tions of Zion, perhaps to the valley of the Mis- 
sissippi, or the dark corners of Asia, Africa, or 
the South, and apply himself diligently to the 
work. Perhaps when ready to enter the field, 



ALVAN STONi:. 11 

be turns his steps to the great West. He labors 
in a dark region there, and by the bli 
prod makes it light. Souls by [lis instrumentali- 
ty are converted, and they in turn convert other 
. and they other souls, and so on, till the 
whole world becomes converted to God. There 
may be hundreds of such in our colleges, and 
not only in colleges, but on the farms, in the 
workshop, or at the bar, whom God designs for 
heralds of salvation. How soon could God con- 
vert the world ! In a day as it were ! But God 
seeth not as man seeth. When it will answer 
his great designs, he speaks and it is done. 
May I be used just where it will be most for his 
glory. 5 



CHAPTER IX. 

Greece a Monarchy — Resolutions of Self-government — Worth 
of Prayer — To Mr. B. F. B. on religious L's* fulness — Notes 
of a Sermon on Jer. 50 : b. 

Civil and religious liberty, in connection with 
the illumination and conversion of the world, 
was to Mr. S. a favorite theme. It inspired 
him with a kind of enthusiasm, which made him 
eloquent. The condition of Greece struggling 
for liberty wa< the subject of the first piece left 
us from his pen ; and here is another, probably 
written in February, 1830. 



78 MEMOIR OF 

GREECE A MONARCHY. 

c It is said, that Greece is to be a monarchy ; 
that the belligerent sovereigns of Europe, false- 
ly styled the Holy Alliance, have made a petty 
German prince monarch of Greece ; and that af- 
ter having fought and bled at every pore for lib- 
erty, she is yet to remain under the yoke. No ; 
Greece will never remain long a monarchy. 
She has breathed, though struggling hard, the 
spirit of freedom. She occupies a country once 
consecrated to liberty. The spirit of Leonidas 
is there. The spirit of Miltiades is there. Yes, 
and of Botsaris and Canaris, and a host of oth- 
ers of the same mould. Free schools will not, 
cannot be prohibited ; and with the freemen of 
the world to establish them, she will through 
them ere long make her tyrants tremble. The 
spirit of the gospel in all its primitive purity will 
soon be there ; and where the Spirit of the 
Lord is, there is liberty. Religious and civil 
liberty go hand in hand, and this will prevail. 
It is a millenial spirit, and must prevail. Greece, 
Greece ! My heart leaps at the sound. Ho- 
mer, Herodotus, Xenophon, Demosthenes trod 
her soil and breathed her air, while speaking 
those words which crossing the Atlantic I now 
hear. I seem to hear that energetic appeal, 
" Athenians, Athenians ! will ye be slaves !" 
It strikes against this mighty republic. Now it 
is re-echoed back to Grecian bosoms, and pro- 
duces the speedy response, ' Let us march 
against the tyrant of Saxe-Coburg. Let us 



\!.\ NE. 79 

fight for oor liberties L t us conquer or die. 1 
I ioi] made tat bj liberty's blood nourish the 
annj I I [er very exhalations would 
be miasma to royalty. And yel tin- is the coun- 
try that i- i I become B monarchy. No; (jrcccc 
will never remain long a monarchy.' 

The follow i; itionfl arc without date; 

but from the color of the ink with which they 

. compared with other papers dated 

in February, 1830, it is thought they were pen- 

ibout the commencement of his second term 

in college. 

1 K- solve I, I it. T lat I will endeavor to act 

continually with the consideration that the eye 
m me. 
' 2d. That I will practice self-denial habitually. 

. That I will concede to others, except 
where duty forbids : and that I will check the 
least r m angry and impatient spirit. 

1 4th. That 1 will strictly scrutinize my con- 
duct, and the motives to all my actions ; and 
where 1 find that they arc wrong, 1 will refrain, 
though it be painful as plucking out the right 
I 

- : but it should 
be ever renx-i of no value 

to him, any farther than he reduces them to 
practice. Too many, it i- feared, please and 
deceh s in forming plans and purpo- 

iiich they nevei execute. T olve 

and re-resolve, then die the same." Not so 



80 MEMOIR OF 

with Stone. He labored and prayed to be what 
he ought to be. He mourned every failure, and 
sought pardon and strength from heaven. And 
thus he gained many a victory over sin and self, 
and made exemplary progress in the Christian 
course. 

It has been before observed, that Mr. S. loved 
prayer, and he was often employed in the exer- 
cise of it. Under date of February, 1830, are 
found the succeeding remarks 

ON PRAYER. 

' "Is there ever a time," said one a few days 
since, whose body now lies in the cold grave, 
and whose spirit no doubt is with the just made 
perfect, " Is there evera time when we ought not 
to pray?" There is a great deal of meaning in 
this sentiment. She had a great veneration for 
prayer. She felt the worth and spirit of prayer ; 
and if every professed Christian felt it, how 
would this world be changed ! When is the 
time we should not pray ? There is no time 
but eternity, and that is not time. If when we 
are going to speak of a person, we should pray 
for him, should we say any thing wrong of him ? 
Besides, the answer to our prayers, if we pray 
in faith ; — in an emergency, how much may we 
be assisted by prayer ! Who can direct, but 
God ? The prayers of a true Christian too, who 
can tell their worth? The prayers of Elijah, 
for instance, — how much they accomplished ! 
And there are righteous now, and their prayers 
will be heard and answered. I would, rather 



IdA Bl 

wish the li 11 mi 1 >I 

-I of the world, than the ! 

tiolar in America, the 
, and the wealth of 

To Mr. B. P. B. 

' Amherst, March 9, 1830. 
nd, 

' You will n that when we parted, the 

ment was mutual to writ ch other. 

i opportunity after so luwj; a time t 
I my proil 
1 How do you like c will doubtless 

your first Q. Tolerably well, is m] 

ply. 1 ti:. netimes n 

than i but iu general 1 

ly, though I am behind most 
j>f m J Ltion studies, and on that 

account . put forth extra effort. 

• With i and reli. ling, 

I live at lire, the 

a low ebb here. 
what do we live for I WThal is our busi- 

and it 19 all o\«-r with US, as it : this 

uity, the body is dust, 

and what un- 

i 

st, who a 
I eat with the 

lent, 



82 MEMOIR OF 

and to pay the mighty ransom demanded by in- 
finite justice ? Or is his history a cunningly de- 
vised fable, or the life of some adventurer cloth- 
ed by the historian in the garb of enchanting ro- 
mance, with scenes of other worlds interspersed 
in the narrative in the manner of heathen wri- 
ters ? Is there any such place as heaven or 
hell, or is it fancy 1 Do the shining myriads on 
the heavenly fields rejoice and strike their harps 
anew, when they hear the intelligence of one 
sinner's conversion unto God ? And how do we 
feel 1 What are we doing ? What is algebra, 
what is Greek, what is Latin, when weighed 
against such grand, such sublime truths as these? 
Human lore will soon be obsolete ; but these 
truths will appear in all their magnitude as pres- 
ent realities. 

' 1 hope that you are serving God faithfully, 
neither turning to the right nor the left. This 
you know is what we live for. It is not, as Mr. 
King* said, to eat and drink and sleep and die. 
It is not to gain the honors and experience the 
vain pleasures of this life ; — to shine for a little 
moment, and then go out forever. It is, to turn 
many unto righteousness, and shine as the stars 
in the firmament forever. 

1 I know your fondness for study. When I 
think of you, I sometimes fear that this will be a 
damage to you. Do not think that I consider 
myself guiltless on this point. I do not. But 
at the same time I would caution you, and hope 

* Rev. Jonas King, the missionary to Greece. 



A\.\ M.. 

Ihal you will hare all tliis desire of literal 

taiumcnt in 

and _. 1 of Christ, pure 

I truth. it under. 

i niil- 

lenium ; and that >ur actions L r iw a 

to thi ml state not only of thoa 

. but perha] - to thou 
rn, it in rnity. 1 wish to 

much. Write soon u hat 
ire about, and what you intend to do, and 
what 

1 Vours affectionately, \ 

1 March 2 I. I am almost disposed to believe 
that there are ver. - ihristians in America, 

it costs so little to profess the religion of 1 
here; for how can it be that those arc pr 

for another and better world, who have no 
who are not as Btrangers and pilgrims 
here? And let me see if it is not likely t 
am decei ir that 1 am ; but 

iiat I have a desire to 
kingdom built up, and his name glorified. (> 
1 irch me, try me, and lead me in the 

ing. 1 

Mr. S. waa in the habit of taking notes of the 
which he heard while at colli 
cially if they were I i him ] • culiarly in 
and i following from his journal 

may sui cimen. 



84 MEMOIR OF 

i April 4. Sabbath. Sermon by the Rev. 
Mr. Hitchcock. Jer. 50 : 5. " They shall ask 
the way to Zion with their faces thitherward. " 

' Whether Zion here means Jerusalem, and 
their return the end of their captivity in Baby- 
lon or the final ingathering of the Jews into 
Christ's kingdom, I shall not determine ; but 
most probably it has reference to both. But I 
shall confine myself to its meaning as intended 
to represent the state of all Christians in their 
way to heaven, and shall have frequent occasion 
to use the figurative language of an ancient 
though much ridiculed writer. 

1 The way is a narrow and difficult way. It 
is beset with enemies. It is full of dangers. 
Skepticism endeavors to perplex the pilgrim ; 
Sloth tries to persuade him to go round the hill 
of self denial ; False philosophy shows him her 
path ; and Pleasure tries all her arts to allure 
him to her bowers. The Prince of the power of 
the air is continually harassing him, by casting 
mists before him, and magnifying the difficulty 
of the way. But he now and then falls in with 
agreeable and profitable company, and there are 
certain individuals who help him on his way. 
Adversity plucks out his right eye, that he may 
not see things double, and tears off his load of 
worldly pleasures and prospects with which he 
has burdened himself, &c~ But there is One 
who accompanies him in all his way, and helps 
him in every trouble ; it is the Spirit of God. 
And at length he comes in sight of the dark val- 
ley, passes through it, and arrives safe home.' 



\i.\ \s BTONK. 



CHAPTER X. 

1 / J. />' /'. I ' niprrancc-— 

■ 

M:: s. was a firm friend of the cause of tern- 
and delivered addresses upon the sub- 

Nor ivas it with him name and talk. 

raint trmn ardent spirit ; but he extend- 
ed it, agreeably to the apostolic remark concern- 
ing 1 1 1 in who Btrives for the mastery, that he is 
iperate in all thin 
was very abstemious in diet: (for his opin- 
ion was, thai we Bhould cat to live, not livi 

ibstemious that some thought lie 

•i extn ially when a member 

for a while Ik? boarded himself. 

And wh n at home in Vacation, ho was scarcely 

willing nform to the arrangements of his 

iMe, hnt preferred to use watered milk, 
I, he should be dainty upon return- 
ing tO C 

Mr. J. R. B. 

\,.!il 7, 183ft 

r friend, 

k \\ nt heart and 

hand in I lice. I know 

will i; id naturally by this, that we are 

talking about nun, wine, drams and bottles. 

• bing. V. • he w hole 

We have found OUl 

d a Hindi pa 



86 MEMOIR OF 

of intemperance. You know what were my 
views respecting the abuse of food, while we 
were at Ashfield. The subject is now agitated 
here, and it comes up to my most sanguine ex^ 
pectations. Professor Hitchcock has delivered 
three lectures on the subject, and expects to de- 
liver more. He will probably publish his lec- 
tures, # and I have no doubt they will do good. 
They have already done much good here. At 
some tables not more than half the food is used, 
that has been. He does not by any means how- 
ever confine himself to quantity ; but quali- 
ty, time of taking meals, exercise, &c. are 
subjects of his remarks. He shews the effects 
which moderate eating has on the mind and 
body, and points out the cause of the great part 
of ill health experienced by man, and its reme- 
dy. I want you should try it yourself for a while 
at least. Weigh out sixteen ounces of food for 
a day, which he says is abundantly sufficient for 
any student, and twenty for a laboring man, and 
continue this mode for a while, and see if you 
cannot accomplish much more than with your 
accustomed allowance. I am sure I can. 

6 1 have no news to write respecting religion. 
I myself am rather dull, very dull. It is aston- 
ishing I can be so. I hope you are pressing on 
with new vigor, with your heart and soul in a 
flame of love to the Saviour, with unshaken, un-. 
wavering faith in his promises and word. I 

* These lectures were soon after published, and have had ex- 
tensive circulation. 



alyvn BTOH 87 

• what U) Saj . I want to exhort von lo 

ithiul; bot that would be to reproach my- 
I hope you will feel for soula and act for 

Christ, if I do not, The world li< 

and the call is loud, and all we want is faith in 

and ! od in a sufficient degree, and it' he 

e shall be useful. Pray much 

lor me that I may possess a living faith and do 

' I frequently wish von were here, that we 

could talk er; but then I think again, per- 

should spend our moments together in 

conversation on that which would yield uq no 
How much time runs to waste in <-<»n- 
non wholly unprofitable. If our time were 
well improved, we should not only increase our 
own stock of knowledge in a vastly greater de- 
much more useful to others 
around us. Write me soon. Write good news 
if you can, bad if you must, and any thing that 
you i write. 

1 \ our steadfast friend, A. Stone.' 

Mr. probably excited to pen the remarks 

which follow, by a sermon that he heard on the 

-t, in which were 
tain :i his view incompatible with 

ihjcct of 

'The foundation of our republic was laid m 
Pun: 

The 



88 MEMOIR OF 

institutions of religion claimed a large share of 
the attention of our forefathers ; and the support 
of the gospel and of gospel preaching was early 
provided for by them. They came here, driven 
by persecution, a band of Christians ; and long 
after their first arrival, their number was increas- 
ed almost exclusively by those who were perse- 
cuted for righteousness' sake : so that during 
the first stages of their existence as a colony, 
they presented the appearance of a community 
of professed followers of Christ. In this form 
they enacted laws for the regulation of their col- 
ony, comporting with their general character as 
a colony, and laws which might at the same time 
suit their peculiar circumstances and meet their 
views of strict Christian government, both of 
which, situated as they were, they could in gen- 
eral accomplish. Among these laws, one for the 
support of gospel preaching, made binding on 
every individual belonging to their colony, was 
enacted and enforced. Waiving the fact that it 
was enforced for the support of one particular 
sect, which all will in this age admit to be im- 
politic, if not unjust, it is my intent to speak of 
its utility and bearing in the general. In the 
state of things as they then were, it might be 
admissible and perhaps expedient. But in the 
present state of our community, and in fact of 
any other community of which I have any knowl- 
edge, I consider the method of supporting the 
gospel by the arm of civil law as utterly inexpe- 
dient, and contrary to the spirit of the gospel. 
1 But how, say you, are ministers to be sup- 



(1 I for they who preach the gospel i 
ospel. Very true, they who pr( 
and must live of the gospel ; 
ivil power is not to help them to this sup- 
port, and more especially force it from those who 

do part nor lot in the gospel. Our Sai 
said, tk My kingdom is not of this world \" and 
in vain do we look for an example in holy writ 
of its institutions being supported by civil and 
compulse It is manifestly contrary to 

the whole tenor and spirit of the gospel. Pagan 
lay he supported by civil power. 
The Roman hierarchy may bind men's conscien- 
itly with her deference to councils 
and < • il bodies, and her connex- 

ion of church and state. But there is a Btri 
want stency in those who profess to take 

the infallible word of God for their only guide 
and directory, when they lean on the arm of civ- 
il law for support, and bring carnal and worldly 
policy in aid of a spiritual kingdom. 

1 Bui tl >n returns, how shall it be sup- 

nough in the 
Is there not enough 
gy in it- principles and hies-: 

Ort I If not, then it ought to fall. 

re are in every church, mero- 

ili.it unless compelled by civil 

any thing for the 

What shall be done in 

cution I 1 wbuld 

re the world, not 
Sue them at the court of 



90 MEMOIR OF 

heaven. Cite them to that tribunal, whose au- 
thority they acknowledge by their profession, 
and from whose decisions there is no appeal. 
Take the word of God as the code of laws; and 
if this indictment has no effect to bring them to 
their duty, the grand trial must be awaited in 
patience. 

c T am aware that it will be said, if this princi- 
ple be carried into effect, many churches would 
be annihilated for want of the preached word, 
without which a church cannot be sustained 
that if those who are not professors should dis- 
continue their aid, and church members be al- 
lowed individually to limit their support, the 
tithes and offerings of the Lord would be scant 
indeed. In the first place, those who are not 
professors are not prohibited from giving what 
they see fit, and it is certain that in an enlight- 
ened community these contributions would not 
be few. And with regard to the church, a plan 
something like this should be adopted. Let the 
church estimate how much they are able to do, 
and equalize this according to their several abil- 
ity ; and let society members subscribe what 
they please as voluntary contributions ; and then 
if miserly professors refuse to bear their part of 
what the church to which they belong have 
thought devolving upon them, instead of bring- 
ing them before the tribunal of Cesar, as I be- 
fore said, refer their case to the chancery of 
heaven. 

' Even admitting that church members call in 
the aid of the civil power to regulate their af- 



suffrage must be inseparable; and who would 

w i-h ; all iu(li>criiiuii:iti*I\ , that 

d by cii il law t<> support preac 
equal power in ; iniHiit and all i 

church must 
cm herself, and she must depend also upon her- 
self; tor the gospel has power to insun 
support. 

rnment were a t: , and by 

- authority church atid Btal thus unit- 

ed, it might be admissible to use compulsion ; 
and the neglect ol the institutions of 

under the cognizance of 
strate, in i u ere united the 

civil | id authority of li But the 

>n, with it< whole ritual and 
appen nies and had. 

ed away. A theocracy can exist DO more, till 
the whole shall become one grand tl 

. and CI ch heart, in- 

earthly magistrate in the 
That kingdom spoken of by 
I 

ts and pri can have a claim, 

i loyal subject of the K 
of a wl. d constituting 

the chur< rmcrly, the church on g< 

u ithin her pale, 
DOt in tie .rity her - 

en fn all the tavor the true -pint of 

1 craves of civil pov, > let her 

aloo 






92 MEMOIR OF 

THE HERO AND THE MARTYR. 

' In looking over the pages of history, we see 
wars and bloodshed occupying a conspicuous 
and principal place in the narration of the histo- 
rian. Every page has its hero, who shines and 
is admired and envied and honored in proportion 
to his skill in domineering over his fellow mor- 
tals or shedding their blood. Here we see an Al- 
exander or a Bajazet, and there a Cesar or a 
Bonaparte, whose fame is trumpeted down to 
posterity, and whose laurels are thought to last 
forever. They have overrun kingdoms, desolat- 
ed and depopulated empires, waded through seas 
of blood, and cut off nations not a few. At their 
nod millions trembled, and life and death await- 
ed their mandate. Power and pomp and earth- 
ly glory wreathed their brows, and for this thou- 
sands bowed before them and look upon them as 
great. 

' How unlike is the notice of the Christian 
martyr faithful to death. He lived, he died, and 
died by violence, is what is said of him, and he 
is forgotten. Forgotten ? No, he is not forgot- 
ten. His name lives recorded on the true re- 
cords of fame, there to stand, when that of the 
military chieftain, the monarch, the despot, shall 
perish. 

6 What a contrast between these characters ! 
The one gloried in pride and revenge, blood and 
carnage, and exulted in turning this earth into 
an Aceldama. The other, like his Master, 
clothed in humility, went about doing good, re- 



Dg in tin 1 mitigating and allevi- 

ating the bo fieri i Fellow creatures. 

While the monarch of mill d voluptu- 

ousness, he has a rankling in his bosom, a thorn 
in his pillow, and trembles at the rustling of a 
J 5 1 1 1 the martyr at the stake or in the drw 
of wild 1' :i look death in the face with- 

out terror, and e\ >me the grim mi 

And then I scene. View him 

se hand has swayed a sceptre and ground 
down nations, quailing and quaking at the ap- 
th, hastened perhaps by the 
sin, or by some loathsome 

the fruits of his own excess, his mind tossed and 

a still darker 
iring moments embittered by the 
curses of injured innocence, and his last breath 
the harbinger of joy to all. Now consider the 
faithful witness. He ith in its most ap- 

palling form with a manly, a glorious triumph. 
Though the curln enwraps him, yet he 

►ncerned, the re- 
leiu rderers who feed that flame.' 

The following poetic line-, whether original 
or m (band in one of his manuscripts, 

ce that he was far from the spirit of a mis- 
anthrope. 

• that God '. 

liiv, 

By ; 
It livcth not i, 





94 MEMOIR OF 

It is a secret sympathy, 
The silver link, the silken tie. 

Which heart to heart and mind to mind 
In body and in soul can bind.' 



CHAPTER XL 

His Interest in Operations to disseminate Christianity — To 
Mr. Z. R. on Missions and Education'— -Engaged about 
Sabbath Schools with Dependence on divine Aid. 

Mr. S. felt deeply interested in every opera- 
tion to promote the cause of Christ and the well 
being of his fellow men. Nor could his benevo- 
lent spirit be content without doing all in his 
power to further the objects of his prayers ; and 
that which engaged his attention he commended 
to his friends, with earnest desire to enlist them 
also in every noble enterprise. His ardent love 
to missionary concerns is manifest in the follow- 
ing letter to a young Christian brother. It is a 
long letter, but the whole of it is worth perusing, 
especially by our talented pious youth. 

To Mr. Z. R. 

6 Amherst, April 19, 1830. 
* Dear brother, 

' I was extremely gratified last evening on 
finding in the post office a letter from you, and 
much more when I found what it. contained ; so 
much so, that I commence a reply immediately, 
though it is Sunday, for I think it not wrong to 
write upon such subjects on this day, as are con- 



lli 96 

it with it 
truly rejoiced me. 

time airo mj Bxed on 

* on td with tin* bl i be 

if ol Christ, and be instrumental of 
good at least But th< link, when 

ntered on the bus and now, 

• I again. Von speak of 
the difficulties in the way. They are greafl . They 
are tremendous. But if you wait till yon remove 
them out of the way, you never will advance one 
jot or tittle. I mean in particular thai 
est of difficulties, sin. You must not do like the 
countryman in the fable, who on coming to the 
bank of a river sat down to wait till the stream 
should all pass by; but this stream of sin i 
be buffeted with a stout heart and lusty sin 

'I see your mind is made up ; you are d( 
mined to be a missionary. But -top a nun 

: counted the cost? Have you thought 
about the last farewell to parent-, brother- 

and to all loved New England friends ? 
. thought about taking your life in your 
hand and wandering on the earth like our I 
iour without i. or friends; and of the 

perils of land and sea, of wild l>» astfl and savage 
men, of suhn levers, of 

the horrid machination- of pagan priests and the 
follov. Mahomet, of the bonds and impria- 

i 

tank uit to u 

have detenu ii 
and plunge into the wilderness like a war!. 



96 MEMOIR OF 

take the strong citadels of Satan, and plant the 
standard of the cross where he marshalled his 
forces. But think you that he will yield without 
a struggle? No. The Romish beast has al- 
ready begun to rear his head there. The infi- 
del and skeptic stand ready to dispute every inch 
of ground. 

' But we have contemplated the dark side long 
enough. There is a bright side to the picture. 
The cause is Christ's, and must prevail. And 
besides, I have no doubt that there are 
charms in the missionary life. He has his labors 
and troubles and anxieties ; but he has also his 
consolations and joys. " I call it," (the mis- 
sionary life,) said a missionary who preached 
here a short time since, — " I call it a grand spe- 
culation. The present result is, the salvation of 
immortal souls; and in the world to come, life 
everlasting, an exceeding and eternal weight of 
glory. A grand speculation." This missionary 
was undoubtedly right in his opinion; for what 
can be more worth exertion, than the service of 
One who has done so much to save this guilty 
world 1 What can be more worth every effort 
which we can make, than the crown of glory 
which fadeth not away ? And then, the salva- 
tion of souls; only think, the salvation of one 
soul, what is it worth ? Can gold or diamonds 
be compared with it, or carnal pleasure ? Surely 
if we had any realizing sense of what is implied i 
in the words Heaven and Hell, or any idea of 
the duration of eternity, we could answer. 

i As to preaching, we all who profess the gos- 



pel preach every day, Voti and I am goin 
preach, if God ooi lives, all this summer, 

either for Christ or the devil. Now we ought to 
this in mind, thai we are every day by our 
words and action- preaching to greater or less 
lions, according to the company we are 
in : and this too is the most powerful kind of 
!iinu, though, alas! it is too often preach- 
ing lor Satan. Hut still entire dedication for 
the express purpose of preaching the gospel, is a 
great thing. No one can enter rashly on the 
Work of the gospel ministry, and he guiltless. 
The immense responsibility, the need of abun- 
dance of heavenly wisdom, — when these things 
are taken into consideration one is ready to ex- 
claim, " Who is sufficient for these thin. 

ime must take this responsibility upon them. 
Christ has died, the ransom is paid, and all 
things are ready. " How shall they believe in 
him of whom they have not heard? and how 
shall they hear without a preacher?" Tf any 
one having a brother in cruel bondage to the Al- 
gerines, thought that he could release him, would 
he not willingly take a voyage thither and spend 
much time to effect it ! And what is the most 
cruel Algerine bondage, compared to the misery 
that one lost sou! must endure to all eternity ? 
And it is not the exposure of one soul only to 
divine wrath that calls us to action, but of myri- 

I into eternity. Is there 
not 1". . to prompt us to 

| exertion in our power to bring tl 

'. with the news of salvation I 



98 MEMOIR OF 

' I know not in what station I shall move, 
should God spare my life ; but I pray that it may 
be where he would have me. 1 trust that you 
will yet experience the pleasures of a missionary 
life. There is a number of brethren in C. that 
I am in the habit of contemplating with pleasure. 
I would suggest the propriety of your meeting 
together and praying a little and talking on the 
subject. Perhaps you have already done so. 
Yourself and brethren B. and the H's. and R. 
and C. would make quite a little meeting ; and 
by communicating what information you could 
get on the subject to one another, and convers- 
ing and praying upon it, you might, have your 
souls kindled together, and feel much encour- 
aged. 

' I mentioned the West as a field of missiona- 
ry labor. I feel deeply interested in the inter- 
ests of missions there. This portion of our coun- 
try, by the extern of territory and the rapidity 
with which it is peopling, is destined soon to be- 
come the majority of this nation, and its Chris- 
tian character is yet in a great measure to be 
formed. But there is no time to lose. You are 
probably aware of the great efforts now making 
by the See of Rome to establish the Romish 
church, and that missionary after missionary and 
large sums of money are sent out by that church 
to further their efforts. This awakes our Pres- 
byterian brethren, and they are now making 
great efforts in sending missionaries thither ; 
and shall we Baptists be behind in the work 1 I 
had rather see the West become Presbyterian 



Al.VAN STON 

than Roman. I want that the whole truth should 

be known and established m such an important 

>n of oar country. The Tact is, we mast 

upon this subject You mast use your 

influence and 1 must mine, to have not only 
Ministers but others of various occupations re- 
i the West Thr time is near at hand, 
1 believe, when fanners will feel it their duty to 
they can do most good. What an in- 
fluence a decided well informed Baptist would 
■ in an infant settlement, which might soon 
become a large town. You must talk to folks 
on this subject, and make them feel. I hope 
you will make it, together with your intentions 
with regard to yourself, a subject of frequent, 
earnest and fervent prayer. 

1 Monday morning. There i> one thing that 
I would earnestly recommend. You say you are 
Calculating to labor this summer. Now if so, 
you will have an opportunity of improving your 
mind much. Tin ireat deal of time lost 

by the laborer, which might be spent in a very 
profitable manner in reading and writing. If 
the little odd moments, which are spent general- 
ly in idleness or i ere turned to good ac- 
count, there is no telling what a fund of knowl- 
jht be treasured up, and how the mind 
might be improved. J am an enthusiast on this 
ct. Hist profane, and 
natural, ii ny other read- 

- and ti 
and well eondoct in particular. 



100 MEMOIR OF 

But you know as well as I do, the benefits of 
such a course. 

' You ask me what I think of a life of prepar- 
atory study. In short terms, it has many pleas- 
ures, and many temptations and dangers pecul- 
iar to itself. I would earnestly request you to 
commence in the outset with much prayer, with 
an expectation that the liabilities to turn aside 
from duty will be numerous, and difficulties in 
maintaining a life of strict devotedness will be 
great ; but after all, if it be the way of duty, it 
is the easiest and safest and pleasantest. The 
pursuits of literature you know are pleasant ; but 
there is great danger of studying for ourselves, 
and not for God. This is the grand secret. 
Act for God, and there is no danger. I could 
name over a long list of my own failings in duty 
and feelings, and my coldness and worldliness ; 
but it would do no good to you or me. You 
must try to avoid the dangers which I experi- 
ence, by watchfulness and prayer ; and by the 
grace of God you will. 

' Concerning the expense of fitting, it will de- 
pend on one's own exertion, prudence and plans. 
But brother, to get along with little expense, one 
must scrape and scratch along, and be some- 
thing different from what is termed a gentleman. 
Pride will sometimes operate ; but one in the 
end is not the less respected by those whose re- 
spect is worth any thing. I am satisfied that 
this is the best way on many accounts, and I fre- 
quently think it is the pleasantest way. This 
term of fourteen weeks, board, tuition and all. 



ai.vvn stum:. 101 

will cost me but eight <>r ten dollars. You must 

and all similar institution-. > i on 

must try to do what good you can this summer, 
and pray for me. 

' I A. Stone. 

1 P. B. Let not pecuniary considerations keep 
you hack. I know not where my resources are 

to come from, yet that is almost the least of my 
concern.' 

It is a beautiful remark of the wise man, " Tn 
all thy ways acknowledge Him, and lie shall di- 

I thy paths. 11 This was a sentiment strongly 
impi i the heart of Mr. S. at all times. 

>ril 20, 1830. Had this evening an unu- 
sual - my utter unworthiness and insig- 
nificencc in the Bight of God, and depend. 
on his mercy for tin. 1 least favor, for any right 

feelings or desires; and had some sense also of 
my unticli. f and Bin. Every thing, I see, is de- 
ie influences of his spirit. Pour it 
out, great God, upon me and those around me, 
that thy honor and glory may be advanced, and 
souls prepared for thy rust. 

r 2L Commence with a class in Sabbath 
school of .Mr. Washburn's society. Now I know 

I cannot take that class to instruct, without giv- 
ing instruction of some kind. In the first place, 

member, that all winch I 
can do of myself i- nothing and will amount to 
nothing at all, and that I abundantly need teach- 
ing. And in the next place, I Will try to re- 



102 MEMOIR OF 

member, that with the Holy Spirit to direct my 
thoughts and suggestions, I may be instrumental 
of doing that which will cause joy in heaven and 
praise through eternity.' 

He deeply felt his dependence upon divine in- 
fluence, and ventured to engage in nothing on 
which he did not crave God's blessing. His 
heart glowed with desires to be always doing 
some good. The Sabbath school cause was very 
near his heart, and he labored to promote its ef- 
ficiency and extension, with that humility and 
prayerfulness which evince great love of souls 
and longing for their salvation. He was not sat- 
isfied with being a mere teacher in a well regu- 
lated school ; but sought to get up new schools 
in destitute neighborhoods. For this purpose he 
went to other towns around the place of his re- 
sidence, to Leverett, Pelham, -&c. And he was 
quite unwilling to relinquish the privilege of so 
doing, even when he was disallowed by his su- 
periors at college. On this particular he thus 
writes, under date of June 13th. 

c My present impression is, that students ought 
to be allowed to go out and take Sabbath 
schools, hold meetings, &c. What are students 
here for? Why, to learn to do good, to fit for 
usefulness. Well, how can this be better ac- 
complished, than by permitting them to go out 
and attend to such things ? What more practi- 
cal school could one wish for ? And surely such 
are the best.' 



u.\ lo.; 



I \ PTBR Ml. 

I v coi n spoil li n i w itb his particular fri< i 

Mr. S ed to lay open Ids 

-ire to do 
did this offend ; but they lov- 
ed him the nn-rr tor his frankness and fidelity. 
And so much did he regard the golden ru! 
our Sat iour, that he would receive I plain 

dealing from them with gratitude of heart, as the 
. " Let the n_ ie ; it 

shall he a kin let him reprove me : 

i Ilcnt oil, which shall not break 

one of the a- i hildhood lie 

Ctionate letter, which, 
of a personal na- 
ture, is thou place among Ids 
communicati 

To Mr. R. P. 

• A: ■.;.. rat, June 20, 1-30. 
1 Dear broth 

* W 'itude, my mind often 

m in early 111 I 
many | hours, when 

i the 
d a- it 1: 
lents of ) 



104 MEMOIR OF 

But how swift is time ! Eight or ten years have 
swept by, and it has all been as a dream, as " a 
tale that is told." School-boy scenes appear as i 
scenes of yesterday ; and the partners of our 
youthful sports are now scattered to the four 
winds of heaven, engaged in far different em- 
ployments from such as then engrossed our 
thoughts. You recollect the last winter that we 
attended school, when Mr. Naramore kept. Just 
glance a thought upon the various situations in 
which those who were then our mates are plac- 
ed. Fordyce is still in Goshen ; Martin proba- 
bly in the western settlements ; Austin in the 
west, most likely wholly engrossed with the world ; 
Sherman no one knows where, but according to 
the last account a vagabond ; Lyman returned 
to his native home, I fear to finish his short ca- 
reer ; while you are at Pittsfield, as I suppose in 
respectable circumstances, and I in Amherst en- 
gaged in pursuits very foreign to my thoughts at 
that period. How grateful to God ought we to 
be, that we were not left of him to pursue that 
course which some of our associates pursued, 
and now reap the bitter fruits of it. Surely it 
was not because we were any better than they, 
or because we had not the disposition to go the 
same course; but God of his great mercy res- 
trained us by various means, and kept us back 
from the dangerous way. 

' And this is not all. While most of our ear- 
ly friends are pursuing after this world as the 
chief good, our attention has been arrested to at- 
tend to the great concern, and choose the good 



LOS 

part which cai 'i from u u he 

it i- t '"<!. [{ it h,« 
that ill our att< ntion to the 

grand rn, rather than that of oar former 

\v lushing on, just as we 
should have done unless the goodness of God 
had prevented. And cannot we make some i f- 

lort l<»r their lOSCUe I It may be that tlu-i « 

; our former whom at the 

-party or in the ball-room we helped in 

drowning the consciousness of a wretched fu- 

. but whom we h the least 

effort firom the wrath to come : but per- 

by our li>t! ssn sa and inc 

d calming their fears and 

their ahxii t; >a for salvation, and in this 

furnishing them an opiate that will bring 

ep of < ternal death. 

i to he ? Oh no : it must not he. 

Win! g lately with one with whom 

and I i 1 he, " I 

lot sec how religion can he true and profes- 

i little engaged.' 1 This ia probably the 

many. We must discharge 

our duty : and we know not what good it Will (Jo. 

' And what are we doing for God, who has 

much fot >metimes when I have 

thought on tin- subject, thought how soon I 

shall look hack upon my whole life, as I now do 

lion that has alreadj . and 

I m doing of t I work for 

!i we live, I have made determinations to 

MUOSt. 

10 



106 MEMOIR OF 

c I feel anxious to know how you get along, 
and what you are doing for the cause of Christ. 
I trust that you are exerting a blessed influence 
in the church in P. You have I suppose a mul- 
tiplicity of business on your hands. I fervently 
hope, that while you are diligent in business, 
you will above all things be fervent in spirit and 
serve the Lord with all you have : and what 
have we which is not the Lord's ? 

1 From what I know of your concerns, I sup- 
pose that you are considerably respected in P. 
Now permit me to hint, that this is a danger- 
ous condition, though one where much good 
may be done, if rightly improved. A station 
where one is esteemed and honored is more 
dangerous than a low and obscure one to the 
Christian, and needs a great deal of prayer and 
watchfulness. 

' There is one other danger to which your re- 
ligion is exposed, upon which, if I mistake not, 
we once spoke together. My allusion is to your 
domestic connection. Pardon me in a^ain allu- 
ding to this, for I consider it to be of vast inter- 
est. What the character of your partner is, I 
know not, except that she is not a Christian 
professor. It is a moral certainty, that the in- 
fluence exerted by a connection like this is 
great. Either your godly, pious conversation | 
and walk will have an effect to win her to Christ; 
or she will have a withering, blasting influence 
on your piety. When I consider many of the 
connections of this kind with which I am ac- 
quainted, I tremble. But I trust it will not be 



I 






\\.\ \\ BT01 101 

so with you ; but thai you will have cause to re- 
joice nt last that such a connection has been 
formed. 

it 1 must Lcnse my liberty : and 

um\ I pray you, the same with me. My pr< 
wish is, to be worn out in the Ben ipe of the 

Lord ; but W in what sphnr of life, I 

know not. Pray much, that my motives may ho 

right, and that I may cheerfully bear the daily 

That you may he blessed in your basket 

and in your store, and above all in your soul, is 
the prayer of your sincere friend, 

A. Stone. ' 

The paper which next follows, dated at Am- 
herst in June, 1830, was probably written with 
reference to a beloved relative who was carried 
to an early grave. Further remark is unneces- 
sary ; the reader will make his own reflections. 

THE FASCINATING POWER OF SERPENTS. A TRUE 

STORY. 

1 It is a fact which has been frequently assert- 
ed and generally received, that serpents of par- 
ticular kinds have the power of charming or fas- 
cinating animals and sometimes men, and there- 

power over them as to 
fix them immovably, while' they secure them as 
their prey. J!» • i 1 1 lt naturally incredulous, I had 
alwav d this as a mere whim ; and last 

of all was I, to admit that there were any of the 
serpent species in my own native country New 
England, that possessed this power of charming. 



108 MEMOIR OF 

But ray unwillingness to receive such an opin- 
ion was completely overcome, and my own rea- 
sonings on the subject were most plainly met, 
and refuted by ocular demonstration, as the fol- 
lowing occurrence will shew, which I shall re- 
late just as it occurred, though my conduct on 
the occasion makes me ashamed of myself, when- 
ever I think of it. 

' As I was once passing along, I saw a person 
ahead of me, who appeared to be in distress. I 
could hear a distressful panting, as if in extreme 
difficulty of breathing, and occasionally a stifled 
groan. Hastening onward I recognized, on 
coming up, the countenance of a well known fe- 
male friend ; I say, recognized, for it was a bare 
recognition, so altered were her features. Her 
countenance, which was naturally ruddy, was 
pale as death ; her whole frame was in agitation, 
and she seemed every moment ready to sink to 
the ground. Having quickly asked what assis- 
tance I could afford, she replied, none ; that she 
stood in need of no assistance. From this reply 
1 concluded that she was deranged ; but how 
horror-struck was I, at that moment to perceive 
that a loathsome serpent had entwined itself 
around her, and appeared to be fast strangling 
her, which had produced the palpitations, faint 
breathings and other symptoms of distress which 
I at first witnessed. To have seen even a dumb 
beast in the power of such a reptile, would have 
chilled me with horror ; but to see a female 
form embraced in such folds, curdled my very 
blood. I stood amazed, scarcely able to move 



AL\ hi!) 

or t<> I I could OOlled my 

tier her danger, ; 

oircled her. Sh< 

plied that thai 
which c 

iifil, which \. illy the case. I could 

endure no Ion jer. I with all 

the renoroooa beast from her, 

rame, when she not only 

but repelled me with 
all h< : <'HL r t li, saying, that she 

should BU might have more delicacy than 

:ed with persons <>f her 

'II of the 
nt, this r i of well meant assistance, 

Dlper, and under the im- 
of tin 4 mom ft her t<> her late, an 

. u hich I must de- 
plore until in 

1 I !er to imagine the conclusion 

of this horril m tin? death of the un for- 

te individual. Tl nt, u obeli 

some i and nnaccountable as it may seem 

toother-, l- nefertheless strictly true. And I 

who wishes to a 

rred from du- 
ty by fascin- 
ating delu I add in conclusion, 
that t is much moi 

quently more dan- 

d. Its colil- 

belt 

Alt. 

IV* 



110 MEMOIR OF 

To Mr. J. R. B. 

1 Amherst, July 9, 1830. 
* Much loved brother, 

' If I should indulge in any thing like the 
spirit of retaliation, I should not now take my 
pen to address you ; for notwithstanding your 
promise to write first, I have received no letter 
from you. But I cannot cherish any such thing 
towards you, though you should entirely forget 
and neglect me. I am enjoying at present good 
health, and for ought 1 know good prospects, as 
far as this world is concerned. But I think I 
care less and less for the honors and pleasures 
of this world, and feel more and more to say of 
the people of God, as Ruth said to Naomi, 
" Thy people shall be my people, and thy God 
my God." 

' I have come to the determination to do what 
good I can now, for who knows how long I may 
have a chance ? I have become acquainted 
with a number of the brethren scattered abroad, 
east, west, north and south of the college ; and 
am determined to become acquainted with all 
who live within half a day's walk of the college, 
and to exert every jot and tittle of influence I 
can, in every possible way to build up the Re- 
deemer's kingdom in what I consider his own 
appointed way. And I hope and pray that I 
may wear out at last willingly and joyfully in his 
service. I find many good brethren who are 
the best of timber, and only want properly fit- 
ting and harmonizing to construct the most firm 



AI.VAN ST(V 1 1 1 

ami durable and beautiful buildings. It ifl - 
are in I mne are rear 

framing, and - only want new mortis- 

•hl tenon difficult 

this timl>- ttered. Yes, our brethn 

not understand one another well enough. I 
do not hunt up one another as they ought 

they all ha?e a common center; they 
all point to their pole star. But brethren in 
Christ should be as a parcel of steel li 
around a magnet, not afraid to touch one anoth- 
er. Ther i a repulsive 
tance between brethn illy in the higher 
walks of life, that my heart is sometim 
frozen over. And this is what I most fear in 
our churches, the result of popularity ; for the 
Baptist church is certainly more popular than it 
- since. Sooner would I wish to 
see our church in the lowest state of unpopulari- 

and disesteemed, 
and its ministers men from the plow and the 
workbench, while a oneness its mem- 

, and love binds them ; than to see 

it at the highest pitch of popularity, with men of 
the ii, >r ministers, with that 

cold distance which I ha\ i of anion 

members. I enemy ■ breeding 

and decorum : but that worldly etiquette which 
I sometimes witness, I cannot away with. I 
care not ho* r the church i-, provided 

is humble; but 1 have lately, in think- 
ing on the subject, almost concluded that popu- 



112 MEMOIR OF 

larity and humility cannot long exist together. 

brother, let us be humble. 

' I have lately had my feelings much interest- 
ed for the Valley of the Mississippi. You have 
probably heard or read the resolution of the 
American Sunday School Union, to establish 
within two years a Sabbath school in every place 
practicable in that great valley. Great funds 
are already raised for libraries and agents of the 
work. Now brother, you and I have got to do 
something in this business. If we do not go 
ourselves, (and let me tell you in confidence, I 
have some doubts about what is duty with re- 
gard to this point in relation to myself, but men- 
tion it to no one,) we must do what we can to 
get our brethren and sisters who are suitable as 
teachers to go ; we must think on it, talk on it, 
and pray on it much. Now do not neglect this, 

1 pray you ; it is a subject of vast magnitude. 
Shall these funds and this enormous amount of 
influence which will be exerted within two years, 
be employed for the whole truth or only a part ? 
Let us answer this question in our closets. If 
life and health are spared, I shall probably be 
out there next vacation. Give my warmest love 
to Mr. Coffin and family and all friends. I hope 
and trust you are growing in grace and fitting 
for heaven faster than ever before. I feel a 
need of great grace and ardent piety. Pray 
much for your unworthy friend, who wishes you 
the smiles of the Saviour. 

A. Stone. 5 



In the t Mr. S. fir (i ;i 

!i ob- 
art. 

( July 1 . have I been about for 

a mouth past, that I have don 
want to remember I 13ut 1 ha\ 
ed that my memoranda have been neglect 

k Been to Pelham. School encouraging. En- 
joyed myself well in talking on the western 
country, about the Sabba ils there, and 

an anxious di md be en 

ed in doin But 1 have been led to in- 

quire whether I am fit to be employed lor God 
in any of his plans to save soul- ; and I fear that 
I am not a Christian. O Lord, show me what I 
am ; and if 1 am one of thy chosen ones, O let 
me serve thee with all my powers of soul and 
body ; and if I am not, 6 teach me to pray, 
that I may ask of thee th ecable to thy 

will, and be heard and accepted of thee through 
Jesus Christ thy dear Son. Amen. 5 



114 MEMOIR OF 



CHAPTER XIII. 

To Mr. B. F. B. on Communion — Encouragement in Sabbath 
School — To Mr. D. I. concerning the West, fyc. 

Mr. Stone's candor, in relation to controvert- 
ed subjects and denominational differences, is 
plainly manifested in the following letter 

To Mr. B. F. B. 

< Amherst, July 31, 1830. 
1 Dear friend, 

% I learned when I was in Goshen, that you 
had proposed uniting with the church there, on 
certain conditions, viz. to be baptized, and then 
be considered at liberty to commune (in the 
general acceptation of the term) with any or all 
other denominations, as you pleased. Now if 
you washed to have the liberty, after having 
joined the Baptist church, to leave them for 
some other denomination, provided you, on con- 
sideration of the subject, became satisfied that 
their method of church building and government 
are unscriptural, that is no more than I and eve- 
ry other church member have a perfect right to. 
But if you, on becoming convinced that the gos- 
pel ordinances are administered according to the 
Bible and primitive practice by the Baptists, and 
cannot in conscience dispense with them or any I 
part of them, still would countenance, while 
connected with the Baptists, what you cannot 
approve, and what the church with which you 



\!.\ \\ II.") 

would continue connected consider un 
and cannot at all countenance in consistency 
with their views of ilmv and obligations to the 
I I Lad of the church ; then surely you can- 
Dot blame us for actin nd prefer? 
to have those u ho would countenanc 
in our i iew,) connected with that i 
openly, rather than connected with us, and still 

uphold it. But perhaps I am not understood. 
I mean, that although we rejoice to have those 
whom Christ has bought unite with US, and to 
added to our church : still, if there 
are those who hold opinions or practices which 
1 be detrimental to the purity of Christ's 
church, though they may be Christians, we 
should prefer that they would be in a situation 
in which those opinions would have the least un- 
happy influence. And now it is certain, that if 
an individual should believe in. believers' baptism 
only, and that by immersion, he would exert 
more influence in favor of infant sprinkling, be- 
longing to a Baptist church and acting manifest- 
ly towards them who were sprinkled in infancy 
as if baptized, than he would to belong to a 
Presbyterian church. 

1 It seems to me that our inquiries on this sub- 

OUght to come in this order. To see first, 
if it is our duty to make a profession of Christ's 

ion publicly ; if so, in what way is this du- 
ty to be performed according to the plainest in- 
of ins \\<»rd : ami when this is settled, 
without " conferring with flesh and blood," it 

I to be d< n, how shall 1 act consist- 



116 MEMOIR OF 

ently with this profession in all things ? and this 
last inquiry will continue as long as life. 

' Now F. you do not want to do that which 
would he an injury to the cause of Christ. Well, 
look at facts. A kw years since the churches 
in ascertain part of Rhode Island became open 
communionists ; and the result was, their des- 
truction. The fact was, that after it became a 
general thing, there was not that great love be- 
tween the denominations, which is so often ex- 
pressed by my Congregational brethren ; but 
there soon arose divisions. Those who believed 
in believers' baptism only, were obliged to wit- 
ness that ordinance perverted and applied to a 
mere unconscious infant ; and on the other 
hand, believers in infant sprinkling were not 
satisfied that the others could not make sprink- 
ling do, and bring forward their infants. 

' There are still some free communion church- 
es ; but they are few and small, and some of 
them corrupt. If the principle of open com- 
munion should become universal, in a little time 
there would be no such thing as a Baptist church 
heard of. It is the very giving up of our princi- 
ples. It is either saying to those that have been 
merely sprinkled, and that on the faith of anoth- 
er, (how absurd !) ' You are baptized as much 
as we ; ; or else it is saying to all who have a 
wish for it, ' Come and commune with us ; you 
have a perfect right, if you think you are fit, 
whether you have been sprinkled or immersed, 
or if you do not think either of any importance, 
and can dispense with the rite entireiy, just as 



\ i r 117 

think best , for we mi 
your opinion and nol What would 

he tho result 1 I Why, in the 

fir>t ii 

• pillar, and said | 

and w hen I lationa of 

left, there is no telling where 
itials will end. And in the other c 

i and disorder would bo the 

■, and no one would know who belonged to 

I lurch and who did not ; and in fact Christ 

irch on earth. Bat 1 

on this point, it" you an 

termined . a firm persuasion of duty, I 

would not wish to infill >uhl, any 

farther than I aid do it : and if you are 

termined, all I could say would be of 

no weight. 

1 Bii ntion. You 

are in a situation in winch you probably In 

nmunion, 
and impr* sly of 

- the 
i; 1 i . that 

of the truth of the 
lore than 
half : :. I wai opprobri- 

um whir 

ciliat. and relative a by 

I 

with regard to church order, notwitl 
11 



118 MEMOIR OF 

the contumely one is sure to receive for so act- 
ing. In the name of common sense let me ask, 
Who puts up these bars spoken of? Our Pedo- 
baptist friends say freely, ' We believe that the 
Baptists are right, and that we are right too ;' 
and many of them confess that there is prepon- 
derating evidence from the Scriptures in favor 
of the Baptists. Why do they not come then 
and practice this right way, and then there 
would be no such thing as close communion : 
there would be no bars then. But instead of 
doing this, which they might do without any 
scruples of conscience, they call upon us to re- 
move the bars which their own non-essentials 
have placed between us, when conscience stands 
in the way to our believing that they are right ; 
and if we do not sacrifice our conscience at the 
shrine of their opinion, we are assailed with the 
epithets, bigot, uncharitable, &c. and how 
often have I heard the passage, " Stand by thy- 
self, I am holier than thou," quoted, and put 
into the mouths of the Baptists as their language. 
If so, I cannot conceive how our friends can 
wish to commune with us ; for the Lord ex- 
pressly declares that such are a stench in his 
nostrils. 

' Now I candidly ask, who are to blame in 
this business ? If our Pedobaptist brethren feed 
in other pastures, whose boundaries we cannot 
find marked oufin the Bible, whether the bars 
are down or up between us, we cannot go with 
them. No : we have ever said, and ever shall 
say, Come with us, (and why do they not? for 



1 19 

they own thai lit.) But if t 

upon us 

. we will i it patiently, leaf- 

it to tin 4 great 11< ad of the church to judge who 
it is thai makes this division, and whether we 
merit thee accusations heaped upon us by 

our brethren. 

1 I found, when I was at home, that there 
ing you in circulation. 
You will probably hear many of different char- 
acter- a hear them from a Baptist, they 
maybe favor of the Baptists; if from a Con- 

LUonalist, of an opposite tendency. I men- 
tion this, that you may guard against being 
prejudiced in any way ; for I know what it is to 
be in circumstances similar to yours, and about 
how much to depend upon flying reports of this 
kind. I must close, hoping that you will cul- 
tivate a spirit of active piety in all your inves- 

ons ; and that you will, when bowed in 
secret, remember your unworthy friend, 

A. Stoi 

'Aug. 1, 1890. Been to Pelham. Lesson, 
the gospel fe le some remarks warning 

them to accept the invitation. Some appeared 
affected, perhaps by the death of some of their 
playmate- -poke with a scholar who s 

that since the Sabbath school -lie thinks 

she i f heart, 

grant that si od. Had an 

opportunr of at- 

tending Sabbath school in thr 



120 MEMOIR OF 

scholars, in restraining and perhaps converting 
some of them. I want more love to him and to 
souls, and a deadness to the world.' 

To Mr. D. I. 

'Amherst, Aug. 1, 1830. 
6 Beloved brother, 

'There is a kind of luxury in writing to my 
friends, which I cannot prevail upon myself to 
forego, though sometimes 1 fear my letters will 
be burdensome. How thankful to God ought 
we to be for the invention of letters and the art 
of writing and printing, by which we can talk 
with each other, though separated by distance. 
I often think, in some of my lonely hours, what 
would I give now for an interview with brother 
I. O friendship, who can count thy worth, but 
those who have felt thy kindly power ! I feel 
myself almost forsaken and alone. I have no 
one to whom I can, when my heart heaves with 
care and anxiety, communicate a part of my 
burden. 

t My mind has been and still is occupied with 
a subject upon which I am as yet unable to de- 
termine what is duty. Tt is with regard to my 
going out to the West. You know what is now 
doing, and what a call there is for effort, espe- 
cially from our own denomination. Now who 
will go? Why not I ? When and where can I, 
in the space of two short years,* hope to do 

*Mr. S. lived only about two years and a half after this date, 
nearly two of which were spent at the West. 



ALVAN STONE. 1JI 

more good, if the Lord should bless I 1 know 

not what will be th' 1 result. Should 1 go, it 

would be my ardent desire to have one go with 
BSe, with whom I could take sweet counsel, and 
in whom I could confide ; and need I tell you 
that my thoughts have often wandered to you? 
Whatever course you take, I hope you will use 
your influence with the brethren at Now Ips- 
wich, to interest them in this cause ; and if any 
suitable to act as teachers, (farmers, me- 
chanics, &c.) you will try to induce them to 
emigrate and settle in the western country, that 
may lend their aid in the cause as teachers. 
The present is a crisis upon which much is de- 
pending, especially with regard to the welfare of 
the Baptist church in the West. Our Congre- 
gational friends are straining every nerve, and 
why should not we ? it is not of small impor- 
tance what the church in the West is ; and be- 
sides, there are a meat many bedarkened souls 
there to save : and who does not wish, in the 
day of judgment to sec souls rise up and call 
him ! 

'Yours sincerely, A. Stone.' 



II 



122 MEMOIR OF 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Swiftness of Time — Birthday Reflections — His faithful Re- 
proofs — Eloquence — Preaching — To Mr. J. R. B. on Watch- 
ing, Praijer, and Fasting. 

' Aug. 5, 1830. Since last Thursday's meet- 
ing, it seems but a day. O how my moments 
runaway! Teach me, O Lord, so to number 
my days, that I may apply my heart unto wis- 
dom. How fast eternity comes! A few more 
fleeting days and the account is sealed. O do 
not suffer me to live as do others, but may every 
single moment be dedicated to thee, and I, hav- 
ing redeemed the time, be fitted for thy imme- 
diate presence through the merits of thy Son 
alone. 

'11. Wednesday evening. Show me, O 
Lord, my character and thine, and give me an 
ardent love to thine and thee. Show me what 
is right and what is wrong in the present mis- 
sionary operations and Sabbath school opera- 
tions, and all such efforts, and if they be of thy 
blessing, help me to engage in them with all my 
might, and guide me in planning and strengthen 
me in executing, and make me humble, and to 
give all honor to thee for thy Son's sake. 

'15, evening. A few moments more, and 
twenty three years of my life will have passed 
away to be recalled no more. Twenty three 
years, and what has been done ? O what has 
been done ? Much has been done, but the prin- 
cipal part sin — sin from morning to night and 



am \n iron L83 

night to morning, from month to month and 

and yel I am spared ; and why 
should I be afraid to confess mj sins to Qod I 

If I try to find our good, pure, unalloyed action, 

what is itl <> Lord, make me sensible of my 
unprofitableness to thee, and my ill des< 

Twenty three years ago 1 was horn. What a 
d ! I then began an existence which will 
i cease ; no, never. I never can place my- 
self in non-existence and shake off being, and 
why should I wish to I I am not a brute: I am 
capahle of happiness. I am not a heathen : God 
graciously placed me in a Christian land. 
Neither has he left me to be an infidel, but has 
caused me to believte the fundamental truths of 
the gospel, and as I humbly hope visited me by 
his Spirit. Then why should I wish to cast off 
this existence, when it is capable of being a 
happy one, and all the provisions possible are 
made that it may be so. Rather let me strive 
to make the most of it, not for myself, but for 
And as I am soon to enter upon a new 
. O may it be begun and continued and 
d in thy service, O Lord ; and wilt thou 
help me in consecrating every moment to thee, 
and enable me to do much this year for thee, 
should I live, and to look back from its close and 
see something done with a right motive. But if 
in this year life should dose, O may I he fitted by 
for thy heavenly kingdom, for the sake of 
thy dear Son. 

'•21. To Pelham perhaps for the last time, 
and what has been the result of my attendance 



124 MEMOIR OF 

there ? Eternity only can tell. Spoke to the 
class on the importance of praying like the pub- 
lican, and the inability of any one to enter 
heaven by works of the law. They appeared 
quite solemn : a great contrast to what they did 
when I first heard them. The Spirit of God I 
think is operating on the hearts of some in the 
school. O Spirit divine, carry on thy work in 
the hearts of those dear immortals, to the praise 
of the Redeemer's grace. Returning saw some 
boys at a distance from the road pitching quoits. 
Something seemed to say to me, 'Your duty is 
to go and talk to them ;' but kept on, till I had 
got by the field. Conscience bid me go and 
talk with them. On my approach, one of them 
went away, but the others sat down. After 
sitting down and conversing, they appeared 
somewhat affected. Spoke to them particularly 
on the value of the soul and danger of losing it, 
and left them.' 

At one time when going to his Sabbath school 
in Pelham, he called at a house for a drink of 
water, and found the woman washing. He asked 
her, with his usual humility and faithfulness, if 
she knew what day it was ? At another time, 
seeing some boys fishing, his heart was pained 
at their disregard of the Sabbath, and he sat 
down on a log by the way side, to deliberate 
what he ought to do in their case. He knew 
not how to suffer sin upon any one, if he could 
find a favorable opportunity to reprove ; and his 
reproofs were generally so judiciously adminis- 



\l\ w [25 

tared, that be seldom provoked displeasure, but 
often was successful ik the wicked in 

their evil COUI 

The following was d ore com- 

mencement, in 1830. 

'A Bickly, delicate, effeminate eloquence will 
not a! popular. A. strong, energetic, plain 

eloquence is what I must study ; and I must 
i! too, Blagden says, that the summit 
is not gained gle leap ; but by crawling, 

meeting with many overthrows, slips, tumbles, 
hard knocks and bruises. Adventitious circum- 
stances may be and are of great service ; but 
still, effort, determined, unyielding, untiring 
effort must be the groundwork. But I must 
ever remember that moral principle must actu- 
ate me, and a supreme love to God be made the 
foundation of the whole. Now henceforth I 
will miss no opportunity to improve, and I will 
endeavor to act from a right motive. 

' Blagden mentioned the present course of 
theological studies, and adverted to the custom 
of making students take just such a course, let 
the bent of the mind be what it may. That 
touching the right string. What! every 
one fitting V) become a minister of the gospel 
obliged to pursue just such a prescribed course ? 
How preposterous! Let every one, in my opin- 
ion, take such a course as duty and a right in- 
clination bid him. If God has called him to 
preach, let him pursue such a course as will best 
meet that call. To be sure he should get all 



126 MEMOIR OF 

information possible with regard to the talent 
requisite to the discharge of those duties he is 
called to perform, and also take into considera- 
tion the advice of others, especially the aged, 
and let it have due weight ; but then let him act 
for himself, bound by no shackles, restrained by 
no formal course prescribed by others perhaps 
living in the past century. What is the harm 
in a soldier of the cross entering the arena and 
exercising himself there against the enemy in 
actual combat? Is it said, that he would be 
overthrown and bring disgrace upon the cause ? 
It is answered, he shall rise again, and he shall 
rise tenfold stronger by every overthrow, for he 
has a weapon of ethereal temper, and he is in 
this way learning rapidly to wield it. But if 
there are masters in the art, he need not neglect 
to study them and unite their experience and 
tact to his own practical skill.' 

Here is inserted another r scrap from his ever 
diligent pen. 

' In preaching, I think the plain truth should 
be preached. Every subject mentioned in the 
Bible should receive just that proportion of at- 
tention comparatively which the sacred writers 
give it, i. e. every subject which is equally appli- 
cable to us as it was to those to whom it was 
immediately addressed. And the preacher 
should, from his judgment of the existing cir- 
cumstances of his people, preach just what doc- 
trine he considers applicable.' 



\i.\ 1*27 

To Mr. I. R. B. 

Amherst, Oct 3, 1830, 

'Dear brother, 

•1 have thought of you and brother I. several 

how you have been speaking and 

praying with the brethren and b ind teacb- 

Dig the Sabbath school, and now while I write I 
think how you will soon go down to the factory 
and spend a happ] there with the young 

converts, and have an opportunity to direct those 
to the Lamb of God, who are inquiring, " What 
shall I do to be saved V O may the Saviour 
meet with you, and grant you a happy and use- 
ful meeting. But before these lines reach you, 
you will have met and parted, and the result of 
your meeting will be written down in heaven. 
Let me for a moment indulge the persuasion, 
that in one of those littie rooms some sin-bur- 
dened soul will be set free; that from that circle 
collected to do business for eternity the swift- 
red messenger of heaven will convey intelli- 
e to the realms of bliss which will make 
angels rejoice, intelligence that one stupid 
(1 hardened sinner has repented. 
' The more I think of your situation, the more 
am I impressed with a I your responsibil- 

ity, pravity of the natural heart, and 

Stitution of right motives and de- 
ft, i> a theme which 1 think 
likely to neglect in your exhorta- 
and F hope you will Btrive to hare 
•:i the subject, and impress it on 



128 MEMOIR OF 

others, so that all the glory of salvation jpiay 
appear to belong to God. k The duties of young i 
converts too, such as daily secret prayer at ,i 
stated seasons, non-conformity to the world, self j 
denial, watchfulness, &c. seem to me peculiarly 
necessary to be inculcated, and that too in an 
appropriate manner. They are now just com- 
mencing in spiritual life, and upon the habits 
with which they commence now, will depend 
their future Christian character. I trust that 
sectarian difficulty will not arise among the con- 
verts ; but if so, I do hope you will be peculiarly 
careful. I am convinced the best way is to 
keep entirely aloof from argument ; but be de- 
cided, open, firm, when occasion requires, with- 
out disputing in the least, even when argument 
is courted. 

1 Oct 10. Heard a sermon from this text : 
" Can ye not watch one hour V It seems to me 
that we are peculiarly deficient in this thing. 
Not only in general watchfulness and care do 
we err, but we are negligent in not setting apart 
oftener, particular seasons for special prayer and 
at times fasting. Surely there is cause sufficient 
for us to humble and afflict our souls before God, 
our own want of conformity to God's will, our I 
frequent deviations from the path of strict duty, 
our unfitness to engage in his service in any 
way, and a multitude of other things which I 
might mention, but which are probably often 
suggested to your mind. Then the cause of 
Christ, which in so many places is in a lan- 
guishing state, calls for our earnest prayers, and 
the state of impenitent sinners around us. If 



we should oftener set apart particular 

! and prayer, our o\* d souls m 
irren ; and I do believe, that u hei 
>k hold of the work of the Lord, it would 
be more prosperous in our bands. A birth 
an anmvt i joining the churoh, the com- 

mencement of some new plan <>r business, some 

the church, and many other pe- 
culiar to me to ho \<tv lit < i 
sions for devoting a portion of time to the pur- 
of humiliation and prayer. A portion of 
the Sabbath quite appropriate fur 
meditation and prayer. 

'The duty of fasting is one winch at the p 
cut aj taps as much as any. 

All w you will) who have 

have been emi- 
nent lor pra ed much 
and v. I do i, -ate a 
pharisaical t ut if, when wo wish to 
devot- prayer, we partially or en- 
tirely abstain from our tied refreshments, 
ire find a cl< i t mind and acutene 
inly desirable at such 
id of Knox, the 
Scotland, that in the habit of arisin 
some tim night for the purpose 

In the warm 
he would merely wrap Bomethin 
him, and retir< ime place in In- garden. 

r than usual, his 
wife apprehensive that something 

the matter with him, and followed into I 
12 



130 MEMOIR OF 

den, where she heard him intensely engaged in 
prayer, and his agony could only vent itself in 
the continual supplication, " Lord, give me 
Scotland." "O God, give me Scotland." If 
you are conversant with the history of the re- 
formation, you know how wonderfully God an- 
swered his prayer. What might we not expect 
to be done by those who are now preparing for 
the ministry, if they were all much and ardent 
and persevering in prayer. If we wish to do 
much, we must pray much ; and in order to 
pray much (spiritual prayer,) we must think 
much, meditate much. I believe that generally 
too great a proportion of our time is spent in 
conversation, compared with what we spend in 
prayer and meditation. Conversation even of 
Christians is often unprofitable. 

'Your sincere friend, A. Stone.' 

' P. S. From what do you think the student 
to be most in danger at the present time ? An 
answer is requested in your next.' 



CHAPTER XV. 

Self conceit — Love of Money — Husbandry — Expressions of 
Dependence and Gratitude. 

Under date of Oct. 1S30, are found the fol- 
lowing pieces, written at Amherst. 

SELF CONCEIT. 

( While passing lately near Mount Monad- 
nock, I fell in company with an ordinary looking 



M/ 131 

fellow, who I Found Ihred near ; and among 
othrr things made inqairj ing the h( 

of the mountain. "The Grand nonadnockt 
Qrand Monadnock V 1 said hej "Amazing 
bight 91 New high, Sirl "O it's so monstrous 
high that folks go up afoot I" Can you tell mo 

bow man;. ictly ; but 1 expect it's 

the highest mountain in the world from the bot- 
tom, though I don't know but there may be 
ie on higher ground." 

'Saying nothing of the peculiar views this 
Jonathan had of what constitutes a mountain, 
and of his ignorance, my object in mentioning 
this circumstance IS, to illustrate a principle 
which seems to be inherent in our nature. The 
principle mentioned is, the tendency to consider 
what belongs to us as superior ; and not merely 
what belongs to us in the strictest sense, but all 
with which we are in any way connected. This 
individual had ever lived near the grand moun- 
tain ; and like the rustic shepherd who had 
never seen Rome, he had supposed that what he 
had seen was all that there was worth seeing, 
and that this ■ monstrous high mountain,' as he 
styled it, was the mount of mountains. 

'But his views with regard to the superiority 
of this eminence over all others, and the com- 
parative consequence he supposed it to attach to 
himself, are by no means peculiar to this indi- 
vidual, so far ai the general sentiment is con- 
cerned. Every one has more or less of similar 
ct to some object, some possession 
or fancied possession. The farmer will tell you 



132 MEMOIR OF 

of the superiority of his farm, the mechanic of 
his superior skill, and the merchant of the extra 
qualities of his goods. The sportsman will boast 
of the unerring range of his rifle. The horse- 
jockey owns the best racer that ever was upon 
the turf. The wool grower boasts of his Mot' 
of merinoes or saxons, without doubt the finest in 
the country. There seems also to be a kind of 
pleasure in most minds, in considering them- 
selves, and being considered by others, the rich- 
est in the town, whether in reality it be so or not. 
( It is owing probably to the same principle, 
that every one is disposed to boast of his native 
country. But in nothing is it more manifest 
than in matters of religion, and here it is instru- 
mental of most injury. An individual may 
think himself superior in many respects, and 
still experience no material injury. But when 
once he is brought to the feeling that others can 
not be nearer the truth than himself, and to look 
only with a blind enthusiasm on the religious 
opinion which he retains, there is more hope of 
a fool than of him. It is this that binds the 
Hindoo to his caste, and the Mahometan to his 
fatal delusion ; and it is only this that keeps up 
the lesser distinctions of sect or party in those 
professing the same general religious views ; for 
truth is not so obscure, neither the human mind 
so blunt, but that the grand mass would, when 
free from all impartialities, arrive at the same 
conclusions.' 



ALVAN STONK. L83 

i.o\ i or Koirn 

'Is the lore of momj productive of more 
I than ei il I 

o 

1 Were 1 to del active of this 

LOD in a few words, it would be thus: — It is 

admitted that tin preponderance of evil 

over the good. Then the love of money is the 
root of (i. e. productive of) all evil ; but the 
love of money is not the root of (productive of) 
all good ; therefore the love of money is pro- 
ductive of more evil than good. 

1 Multiplying arguments in so plain a case 
like demonstrating an axiom ; yet 
as some may have objections to geometrical 
demonstrations of moral subjects, I deem it best 
to present a few additional arguments in a some- 
what different light. 

'Look abroad on the earth, and what do you 
see ? Rapine and robbery, oppression and vio- 
lence, blood and carnage. What is the cause? 
It will not, neither can it be denied, that a vast 
proportion of this violence springs from love of 
money. From the conquest and sack of cities 
and empires, towns and villages, down to the 
secret assassination of the private individual, we 
tniversally trace the miseries inci- 
dental to these deeds of violence to this unhal- 
lowed principle. 

'Think of the needy friendless widow, or the 
pennyless orphan, made wretched by the avari- 
cious cravings of the lucre-bitten judge; and as 
you seu the big tears stealing from their foun- 
12* 



134 MEMOIR OF 

tains, and the bosom heaving with the stifled 
sigh, tell me what principle can be worse than 
that which steels the heart to such wretched- 
ness? 

'See the midnight assassin, as he prepares 
the bludgeon, or tries the point of his dirk. 
View him, as in the obscurity of night he creeps 
along, lifting carefully the latch, or crawls 
through the raised window up to the bedside of 
his slumbering victim. Now the bludgeon dash- 
es in the skull of the grey-headed man. Now 
the polished dirk glides to his heart and draws 
his life's blood. What nerved the fiend's arm 
to wield the fatal club and strike the cold steel 
again and again into the bosom of the innocent 
man ? Ah ! it was this accursed love of money. 

'Our penitentiaries tell loudly what is the 
tendency of this passion, Enter one. Ask one 
of that long row that ply the hammer to the 
granite block his crime. Forgery. What in- 
duced that act ? Love of money. Ask another. 
Highway robbery. The cause I Love of money. 
Another replies, Forgery ; another, Burglary ; 
and so on through the black catalogue ; but all 
attributable to this one vile principle. 

'Gaming houses furnish a similar comment, 
illustrative of the tendency of this principle. 
Imagine a group of wretches seated around a 
table lighted by a glimmering lamp or two, like 
demons from the pit "grinning horribly ghastly 
smiles" as they win, or with hatred and revenge 
lowering in their malicious countenances when 
they lose. Follow them as they go from their 



\i.\ \\ STONE. 

rret to hang him- 
self; an< ■ in some dark lane he murdert 

a quarrol which enda 
in m< oollj shooting on< 

other. And then look fur some good, produced 
of money, counterbalancing such 
But you will look in vain. 

'Probably nine tenths of the wars tli.it have 

e?er afflict d the human race, arc the clear con- 
principle. The possession of 

province or territory, a tea tax, stamp tax, 
or the lil ide the pretence of shedding 

rivers of blood. 

* When the miseries and sufferings of sinews 
bought and sold, the agonies of fathers and 
moth , husbands, u 

and children, in the unnatural warfare on their 
native shores, in the "middle p and 

under the cruel lash of hard hearted taskmas- 
ters, can he I :i the evils of this blasting 
principle' :nown. But they cannot be told. 
They nated only by Him who hears the cry 
of the ravens. The moans which are spread abroad 
on the Atlantic billow, mingling with the wild 
breezes as th are wafted to Heaven on 
troph When the blood-chilling horrors 
of those tragedies so often acted on the West 
Indi;: ined, the piratic mas- 
icing with Spanish knives; when 
the boon of plunging into the deep is most pre- 
cious to the ill-fated captive; when the innocent 
blood shed in legalized and unlegalized warfare 
is taken into account ; the tears of orphaned 



136 MEMOIR OF 

innocents measured, and the miseries of the 
bereft calculated, all chargeable to this love of 
sordid gain ; then, and not till then, shall we be 
prepared to judge. And what arguments will 
the advocates for this principle advance in sup- 
port of it, which can in any degree be consi- 
dered as counterbalancing so great evils ? 

c We are told of the spirit of enterprise which 
it begets. But does this alone produce a spirit 
of enterprise ? By no means. What originates 
the great and benevolent enterprises of the age ? 
Love of money, so far from being the moving 
cause, is the principal obstacle. It may give 
life and action to the little busy selfish mortal, 
whose particular interest in his own estimation 
outweighs the universe ; but it is a dead weight 
to the wheels of benevolence. How would mis- 
sionary operations, and the blessings of Bible 
societies, and all other kindred efforts, be in- 
creased, were they freed from this clog ! So 
much for the love of money being the soul of 
exertion. It is called by some the spice of life. 
If so, deliver me from a spiced life. 

' There may perhaps be other arguments of 
an equally sophistical character adduced in favor 
of this principle ; but so long as facts universal- 
ly contradict them, so long as we can receive 
the testimony of our senses, and what is more, 
of the word of God, we must believe that the love 
of money is productive of more evil than good.' 

HUSBANDRY. 

'Although the human mind is so constituted 
as in general to relish the same enjoyments, and 



Al.\ \N 131 

a capable i niL r pleasure in common 

firom the same general I Proi idence 

Beemfl to have kindly ordered it, that a variety 

should exisl in different individuals, 

and that this pleasure should be sought thro 
different channels. 

'All arc in the grand pursuit of happin< 
and all arc ca^er, hut sire urging the chase in 
the different routes which their several fai 
dictate. Among the various pursuits and pro- 
herc is one which of all others 
Is the most sincere pleasure, which in itself 
furnisher the most heartfelt enjoyment Some 
venture on the foaming billow, and do business 
on the mighty deep. Some take part in the 
contentions of their fellow men ; and in endcav- 
5 to bring light out of darkness, too often 
n counsel by words without knowledge. 
Others for gain engage in the lesser mercantile 
pursuits ; and others still, apply themselves to 
the craft of artificers. But the farmer has en- 
tered that course which, together with the enjoy- 
ment peculiar to itself, may afford the pleasures 
of other p ith hut few of their cares. 

Almighty wisdom designed the culture of the 
earth to be the employment of a irreat propor- 
tion of the human family, and therefore it is, 
that it has most attraction 

'Who, that has seen the attractions presented 
by the employment of tilling the ground, and 
what is more felt, the pleasure of earning his 
bread by the sweat of his brow, does not • 
the farmer I The experience of nearly 6000 



138 MEMOIR OF 

years has evinced, that that which seemed a 
curse has proved a hlessing. Mistaken mortals 
they, who think labor a drudgery, and sweat- 
earned bread unpleasant. 

'Just take a view of the farmer in discharge 
of his daily duties. He goes forth to labor, it is 
true ; but labor is no curse, when the mind is 
free. His conscience is clear ; and he, in pos- 
session of health, strength and vigor, is cheerful 
and happy as the morning lark that welcomes 
him to his scene of labors. He toils, but it 
is in hope ; and this very toil gives him health 
and cheerfulness. When his work is done, it is 
done, and no corroding cares consume his hap- 
piness ; but he is welcomed to the bosom of his 
family, where he finds a little world in itself 
centering in his own happy fireside. He is 
happy. His bread bought by sweat is sweet ; 
his sleep is sweet; and he passes his life in 
tranquility. 

( What a contrast does the life of the profes- 
sional man afford ! Dependent in a measure on 
others, he lives in anxiety. A thousand cares 
unknown to the laboring man consume his very 
soul. Ts he a lawyer ? It is in addition to 
other perplexities, that conscience frequently 
warped, plants a thorn in his pillow ; and he 
finds in many instances that he lives by the 
wranglings of others. Is he a physician ? A 
servant of servants he may well consider him- 
self, compelled to run at every one's bidding ; 
and he must ever feel that he lives by the mis- 
eries of others. If he be a clergyman, duties 



LL1 fl . 189 

innurner.r him, and QOWD 

only to himself. I i what it may, 

rid often j 

t with.. , 

other malady preys upon the body, and painful 

solicitude upon the mind. 

1 What it' the farmer docs not put on broad- 
cloth every d,i\ ' Did the frock, the 
homespun pantaloons, or the cowhide bo 

ide an individual in the eyes of air. 

worth having ? It is la- 
mentable that so many at the present day 
mate tin ind Others, and measure their 

ity and worth, by the punctilious nicety and 
I cut of their dress. I am d. when 

I see one by whose appearance 1 can tell the 
exact current and change of fashion, as precise- 
D the course of the wind by a weather- 
cock. T be in the fashion or out of the 
fashion is of no consequence in itself; but when 
the index is placed before us, we may well judge 
of the character of the whole work. But I have 
wandered from my subject. 

'The farmer, however he may be regarded by 
others, L ic table a ixistfl 

in any community. He may be thought rustic, 
clownish, boorish : but that alters not the case. 
He in norant; but he is not 

of m .1 in our happy country this i- 

far fp ! would 

admit the tr iat 'those who know 

enough for nothing else are sent to college 



140 MEMOIR OF 

that our agricultural population is not a reflect- 
ing, intelligent portion of our community. 

* When I see the plough turning the glebe, or 
hear the din of the implements of agriculture ; 
when I see the primitive simplicity of our fore- 
fathers exhibited, and experience the pleasant 
homeliness of farmer's style, proud thoughts of 
independence possess my mind. Yes ; should 
liberty by the hand of despotism ever be blotted 
out, the last blow struck in her defence would 
be by those hands accustomed to hold the im- 
plements of husbandry. Or should corruption, 
luxury and vice ever drive her from our land, 
her last refuge would be in the bosom of the 
husbandman.' 

'Nov. 1, 1830. This morning I am deter- 
mined by the grace of God to begin anew to live 
more soberly, righteously and godly in this pres- 
ent world, to be sober and watch unto prayer, 
so as not to bring disgrace upon the cause of 
Christ. O for strength ! O for a spirit from on 
high of watchfulness and prayer ! Why do I 
not feel more love to God? Because I have so* 
much love to the world. The tongue is a world 
of iniquity. When I can govern this, I can 
hope for the joys of the Spirit. Help, O my 
Saviour, for I am weak, and shall surely fail with- 
out thee. Give me a sense of eternal things 
and of thy presence continually. 

'Monday morning. The goodness of God is 
great. I have been permitted to pass another 
Sabbath and pass it pleasantly. Attended meet- 



Al.\ v\ ITOK II 1 

tag at brother Wood's in the Spoke 

upon the oharacter of the Christian, and the 
of Ins taking up his cross daily and 
following ( Ihrist Ma] I be enabled to 
formably to my own exhortations, and this week 

•mi better than any I have ever before 

!it.' 



CHAPTER XVI. 

j ij. 

HOMESICKNESS. 

'Turin: is perhaps no one who lias arrived at 
years of maturity, and been called to pas- any 
th of time from beneath the paternal root', 
who has not exper something of that feel- 

ing termed homesickness. Associated as the 
idea generally is with puerile weakness and 
feminine traits of character, and considered as 
belonging to the greener years of youth, still it 
is not a feeling to be derided or despised, but it 
, the contrary an indication of the tendcrcst 
-ibility an est emotion. 

or is it i in younger years that 

motion. More than once has 
from his native home and land fell 
nsations steal over him. 
'The bard] sailor, far away on the main, has 
art that is moved with such sensibilities. 
13 



142 MEMOIR OF 

As in some lonely evening, while he paces the 
deck or sits solitary among .the shrouds, with 
the gale howling over the waters around and 
whistling through the cordage above, he thinks 
of the sanctuary of a parent's affection or a sis- 
ter's love ; and stern and firm as is his charac- 
ter, his feelings vent themselves in tears. 

'The western emigrant often thinks of his 
native home, and thinks of it with deep emotion. 
The scenery which at first so delighted him, 
now has no charm. He gazes it may be, on the 
bright bosom of some noble river, and sees the 
banks, a portion of which is perhaps his own, 
clothed with the richest verdure ; but this now 
only serves to remind him that he has wandered 
from his native land. The tones of the boat- 
man's bugle, so thrilling as it breaks upon the 
ear from a distance over the smooth expanse of 
waters, thrills not to his bosom. He thinks of 
the green close-grazed hills of New England, of 
the pleasant fireside, the domestic circle, and 
the family chat, and he is sick of western scenes. 
He thinks too of the friends that were once ac- 
customed to join with him in schoolboy sports, 
in chasing the butterfly, roaming over the fields, 
and a thousand other pastimes, and he exclaims 
involuntarily, ' The friends of my youth, where 
are they?' and nought but echo answers, 
' Where are they V 

'It is this feeling that is called up in the 
Swiss soldier in foreign service, when he hears 
his national music. It is produced by the asso- 
ciation of those airs with his native mountains 



\i.\ w I IS 

and rallies, where he bad been accustomed u> 

I hem : ami it induoea bim in io man 
stanoes t<> desert, that Io prevent it, 
prino ig Mich in their employ arc obi 

to prohibit the performance of tho 

'Others, in other circumstances and in other 

situations, arc Tar from being Btrang< ri to this 

emotion. Ii may exist more or less strongly in 
different individuals; and indeed it is not in 
sons felt to that degree which i< some- 
times exhibited, where it I to injure 
health and impair the bodily facilities. But I 
should d< rly of that individual w 
breast it does not possess in milder form, and of 
that home which is not calculated to produce it. 
Perhaps it may appear to some, that what 1 have 

alluding to has no connexion with real home- 
sickness. But that feeling which dwells with 
regret on the recollections of home scenes, not 
the regret of conscious guilt, but that they can 
never again be participated, is the same in char- 
acter, though not in amount, as that felt by the 

)erienced youth, when for the first time lie 
leaves th< J roof. The tender and mel- 

ancholy sensation which we feel in more ad- 
vanced lite, when fond recollection brings to 
view days l«»NL r past, and scenes and associations 
too deep!. on the heart ever to be 

d of the same general 
char 

* There is another feeling in some mea& 
similar to tin-. It ig found only in the b&efl 

tian. lie feels a stranger in a strange 



144 MEMOIR OF 

land. It is true, he has never seen his home ; 
but he is fully assured that there is a mansion 
prepared, compared with which his present ac- 
commodations and sojourning place are mean 
indeed. He does not look back to the time 
when he dwelt at home, for he has ever been a 
wanderer ; but he looks forward to his Father's 
home, and would fain be there. He is sickened 
with his present abode, when he thinks of those 
pleasant employments and those dear friends 
that "home, sweet home" will afford him. How 
few experience such homesickness as this ! 
Alas, how few !' 

Amherst, Nov. 1830. 

To Mr. D. I. 

< Amherst, Dec. 11, 1830. 

c Beloved brother, 

'My thoughts are turned on you. A portion 
of this day has been set apart for the purpose of 
ascertaining, if possible, the way of duty. And 
while I endeavor to view the subject as it should 
be viewed, and sum up and balance the reasons 
for my going to the West on the one hand, and 
remaining where I am on the other, my mind 
wanders to New Ipswich, and it is suggested to 
my mind, that if you, my brother, were going 
with me, I should be ready at once. But Provi- 
dence seems to order otherwise with respect to 
you. What my duty is, I know not. My in- 
clination is at present to go ; but to leave friends 
here and plunge afar into a land of strangers, 



led to temptations and dangers entirely 
unknown to me at present, and alone t<><>, a 

at all. To break awa\ from all tfa kin- 

dred, and from the cl. solace of Christian 

society, friendship and love, and rush 
climes perhaps ungenial, among infidel and 
vicious societ f the wil- 

derness or the ocean, to wild beasts and Bfl 
men, to all the contumely, reproach and rx 
cution whicli the civilized or pagan infidel can 
indict, and all the terrors whicli the engines of 
wrath of the Romish church can employ, and 
finally, to all the horrors which man and nature 
can furnish, what is it ? what, when compared 
with the condescension and Bufferings of the 
Saviour, or with the salvation of n ain I 

say, nothing. But how different from what I 
have mentioned is that which I have in contem- 
plation ! A mere trip of pleasure where Chris- 
tian friends, a beautiful country, and liberty of 
conscience may be enjoyed, and no persecutions 
unto death to be feared. I wish your advice in 
this affair ; and above all, do not forget me when 
before a throne of grace improving your interest 
there, in asking that my heart may be fitted for 
the work of the Lord. 

1 Perhaps you will ask me if I am sick of 
college ? if I can do no good here ? I should 
be glad, brother, if duty would permit, to B] 
much time in college, that is, as far as mere 
enjoyment is concerned ; for here I am at my 
leisure, free from care in a great degree. But 



146 MEMOIR OF 

as an eminent writer observes, we have employ- 
ment on the earth. True, if I were as faithful 
as I ought to be, I might perhaps be useful any 
where ; bat there are spheres which each one 
ought to fill, and in those spheres only can one 
be most useful ; and the grand secret to be 
found out is where each one's own sphere is. I 
have before mentioned to you, that the particular 
pursuit of my life (should it be spared) is yet a 
mystery to me. I have at times a desire to be 
a minister of the New Testament ; but unfit as 
I consider myself, I have little expectation of it 
at present. 

'Let me here speak a little on the subject of 
education for the ministy. The more I think of 
it, the more preposterous it seems to me, that a 
college education should be deemed indispensa- 
ble. Supposing two preparing for the ministry 
should commence together. One should fit for 
college, pass through college and theological 
seminary, in which case his studies would oc- 
cupy him about nine years. The other should 
look at his work, see what he wanted to accom- 
plish it to the best advantage, and set himself 
about acquiring it. He would want a good 
knowledge of the English, (and this he could 
attain without poring over old Latin ;) ecclesi- 
astical history, together with its connexion with 
profane, would engage his critical attention ; 
Greek would claim a share ; and the remainder 
of his time devoted to the direct study of the 
word of God. Let him pursue this course with 
frequent extemporaneous speaking and writing 



\M w 1 17 

for Dine years ; and which, think yon, would be 
best fitted to win souls to Chri a person 

study the constantly for thr< "idv, 

and practice Bpeaking at tin 1 same time, so that 
he could communicate freely what he knew, and 
who could stand before him I He would he 
mighty in the Scriptures. I am il 
when I think of it, that those who are fitting for 
the station of captains of the Lord's hosts should 
heap together the puny popguns of classic litera- 
ture and scholastic tin hen the sword of 
the Spirit, by which alone they are to defend 
themselves and rout the foe, is as unwieldy in 
their hands as the sword of Goliath in the hands 
of an infant. Be it far from me to advocate 
ignorance in the ministers of Christ. No matter 
how much learning, but let it be of that kind 
which will tit them for their work and have a 
direct bearing on it. I may be wrong in my 
views ; but let that be as it may, I hope that 
those preparing for the ministry of the Baptist 
denomination will ever look forward to their 
work and see what materials they want, and 
take that course, whatever it be, which will in 
the best manner, fit them for the station ; and 
then, if they have a warm heart, (which well 
directed is in my opinion most needful,) a tho- 
rough knowledge of the word of truth, and an 
ardent love to God and the souls of men, I have 
little fear for them. 

'When we were together last fall, we spoke of 
the importance of prayer for more laborers to be 
sent into the harvest. Since that time I have 



148 MEMOIR OF 

thought more of it, as a subject of the most 
vital importance. How many destitute churches 
there are, and what a host are wanted to go to 
the - dark corners' in our own country and 
among the heathen. It is owing in a measure 
to the great number of ministers in the Meth- 
odist denomination, that they are making such 
rapid advances in numbers ; and will the Bap- 
tists remain indifferent to the subject? I trust 
not. Your sincere friend and unworthy brother, 

A. Stone.' 

The foregoing letter is his last dated at Am- 
herst. He left at the close of the term on Dec. 
22d, and returned to his father's house in Go- 
shen, with his mind quite determined for the 
West, and to make preparation for his depar- 
ture in the spring. 

His soul burnt so intensely with desire to do 
good, that he could not consent to wait until his 
collegiate course should end, before he might 
enter the field of action, though often advised 
by his friends to delay. It was not however 
with disgust of college or of study, which he 
greatly loved, for he purposed to pursue his clas- 
sical studies at the West. But he thought that 
fleeting time would be turned to better account, 
where he could be actively doing something for 
the interests of Zion and the instruction of the 
youth, especially in Sabbath Schools, while he 
at the same time prosecuted his literary and sci- 
entific studies. He was greatly influenced by 
correspondence with Rev. J. M. Peck of Rock 



UA \\ I 1!) 

Spring, 111. who wrote to him, tf you 

soon ; conn 

your education." And he supposed that a jrood 

opportunit] would there be (bund to acquire, un- 

impetent teach rs, all the ii u lie 

it ueed. 

The follow; from his pen about this 

lime. 

1 If I go, these things must receive my atten- 
tion. Determine to improve myself every week 
• aking and writing. Embrace every prop- 
portunity to speak in public. Gain infor* 
in with r( i the West, and communi- 

il to friends here at the Bast Above all, 
in mind the bettering of the spiritual con- 
dition of myself and other-, infinitely more im- 
portant than the temporal inter 

To Mr. J. R. B. 

' Goshen, Dec. 26, 1S30. 
1 Dear brother, 

1 I have as you see by the date of my letter, 

returned to ( I expert to spend 

ni the winter. I ha disappointed 

no lea - v. itfa regard to s Bchool 

this winter. What it means I cannot tell ; but 

I tell, that it will be all for the i 

_-h it may appear otherwise at present 
Your sister informed me thai you had taken a 

0l. <> do be faithful. The destinies of 

little immortals may be depending on you. 



150 MEMOIR OF 

What more responsible station can there be, 
than that of a school teacher ? I hope you will 
care more for the immortal welfare of your schol- 
ars, than for the praise and applause of men. 
If you do, and set before them an irreproachable 
example, God perhaps will answer your prayers 
for their conversion, and make some of them 
ministers of the gospel. 

' I now come to the main subject of my letter, 
and enter upon it without a preface. I have 
come to the decision to go to the West in the 
spring, should nothing occur more than I now 
know of. It seems a great way to go from 
friends and alone too ; but I think I can be 
more useful there than here, and why should I 
not go ? I have received a letter from Rev. J. 
M. Peck, Rock Spring, 111. and he says, " If 
you come at all, come soon ; come before you 
get your education." But why not come direct- 
ly to the point 1 My question then is, Will you 
go with me ? I wish you to think of this sub- 
ject, and pray over it, and see if you will not go 
with me. O brother, if we could go out there, 
and in some of the dark corners be instrumental 
in saving souls and building up the cause of 
Christ, what an object it would be ! If I go, I 
shall think of pursuing study there, and engage 
in Sabbath Schools, teach school, &c. 

' I fear sometimes that novelty or some unhal- 
lowed motive may have an undue influence on 
my mind. I trust you will remember me at 
the throne of grace, and am confident that you 
will make your own duty a subject of immediate 



A I.N \\ 15] 

ami ardent prayer. And it" I irere permits 
• with re your duty, I should hope 

that it would be nd thai we should go 

ther, lull of faith and of ihe 1 1 I 

:i t<» -tram ( r< i\ in -r\e t<> L r el BOmething this 

winter to pay my debt* and carry me on tl 

'Yours 'in, A. Sm\i„ 

Elding h repeatedly dii 

pointed about a school of a higher irradc, he 

1 not be quiet without employment ; and to 

COmpaSfl the Object mentioned in the last 

e of the : Iter, lie taught 

in t! i district of Goshen. Writing to 

the same friend about five weeks alter the form- 
er dal i'»ol will close in about 
three and then I intend, if prospered, to 
u <»ne of father's places. By 
this meai mi: of Provident 
mean to - i_ r h with what I get this win- 
ter for teaching, t<> pay my debt.-. Probably my 
brother will let me ha\e BOOK 
me out tin r Tins is my plan. I may be frus- 
1 ; but il* my motive be right, and if I am 
directed by the good Spirit, 1 care not for the 

A. 

. he made aboni 

900 pOUD ill- of which 

it to pay his < & c, 

In all frugal, bin not 

i lay up treasure on 
earth : bui ing himself onlj i d <»i 

h ind 



152 MEMOIR OF 

with a view to the glory of his Redeemer and 
the good of his fellow men. 

The following passage of Horace the Latin 
poet, so well pleased his taste, that he transcrib- 
ed it among his memoranda. 

a Multa petentibus 

Desunt multa. Bene est cui Deus obtulit 

Parca quod satis est manu." 

Lib. iii Od. 16. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Obtains Dismission from College — Visits in Goshen before 
his Departure for the West — Seriousness among his Neigh- 
bors — To Mr. D. I. on conducting Meetings, fyc— Takes 
Leave of his Family — Bower of Prayer. 

Having fully decided to go to the West, he 
applied for a dismission from college, and receiv- 
ed accordingly an honorable dismission under 
the hand of President Humphrey, dated at Am- 
herst College, March 31, 1831. 

In expectation of departing to the West, 
and as one who desired to perform his whole du- 
ty in every respect, he was active to converse on 
the things of religion with all who came into his 
presence. In this business he was humble and 
modest and prudent, so that he seldom offended 
any with his communications. But he was very 
plain and faithful, commending himself to every 
one's conscience in the sight of God. Before 
his departure for the West, he visited almost ev- 
ery family in his native town, much to the com- 



B trul\ j I not in \ 

; <1 in his 
• 
thron r and the sigh were iritne 

and BOme BO In t 

gaged, an«l t"«»r a u bile 
the 1' in was principally resting <»n him, 

d in the follow ing letter 

To Mr. 1). I. 

'Goshen, April 6, 1881. 

1 1 cheerful a few m 

ing to a with you. A m< -lan- 

. upon me rery heavily for the 
• he day, but I think I can blefll the 
Lord 

a tinner faith and an unshaken 
confidence in that iour who bis done 

:n the 1 
" The Lord in mere 

-trrs 
appear t<> and call- 

. uncrs hither- 
to impenitent .are pricked in I , and in- 
quire what they shall do to be I C miiot 

6, but 
there t for whom sonv 

held tu ic 
in th 

urn, wh< 
says quest 

he pi 

14 



154 MEMOIR OF 

' I have heard that there are some hopeful ap- 
pearances with you. May the Lord pour out 
his Spirit mightily among you, and in answer to j 
your fervent prayers convert your whole Bible 
class. I think I feel more and more the need, 
importance and efficacy of the fervent prayer of 
faith. O how much should those called to labor 
for the good of souls be engaged in prayer, and 
what a privilege it is to pray ! We must lay 
■ great plans, and make great effort and sacrifice, 
if need be, to accomplish them. I do not mean 
merely plans a great way off, to be done at some 
future time, but plans for Jesus right around us. 
If we put our ingenuity upon the rack, to see 
how much we can do for the Lord, there is no 
telling what may be thought of and done. 

' My answers to your inquiries must be curso- 
ry. But such as they are, you shall have them. 
And first, in regard to conducting meetings. I 
think that those who are expecting to act pub- 
licly, should endeavor to make preparation for 
every occasion of coming before an audience 
however small, and strive always to have some- 
thing new and interesting. It is true there are 
seasons when one is called to speak without any 
preparation ; but if he has been accustomed to 
think deeply on religious subjects, he will have 
something to say which will interest. I do not 
think it best always to offer a 'set speech,' or to 
be methodical ; though to one who has in view 
the gospel ministry, this should be considered of 
high importance and be frequently practiced. A 
fondness for novelty is a principal ingredient in 



I 
- 

1 hrist 

I 

. 

i :itly t<> throu oaf rein 

which 

lv in a i I manner, but never with- 

out thought, \ 

nd harm tounding and 

blusfc 

no Bin I truth in 

truth, pure truth, or to 

1 With regard f in private 

1 HIM how 1 

tO lead the 
meet: ic to 

trtion 

most 

the audience, 

and which wi the pree- 

Baid 
link that closet pray* 
• 

■ 

at random. 

• Bplit the 



156 MEMOIR OF 

yet the ideas cost me as much labor as if com- 
municated methodically, except now and then 
one that flashes into my mind in a moment, in 
which cases I always throw them out as they 
present themselves.) Then on sitting down I 
say, ' If any one has a prayer to offer, an ex- 
hortation or invitation to give, or a hymn to 
sing, there is room. If nothing is said or done, 
perhaps I make more remarks or sing a hymn 
myself, and close the meeting. If the time 
should be occupied, I close the meeting in good 
season ; after which perhaps some will wish to 
stay to sing and pray, in which case we have 
frequently now the most interesting meetings. 
This is materially the plan of our conference 
meetings, though sometimes varied. 

6 In relation to your last question on the dis- 
cussion of baptism, I have room to say but little. 
In a Bible class like yours, I think great caution 
should be used to have nothing like a censorious 
spirit; but ascertain what truth is, and " never 
spoil a good story for the sake of relationship." 
I think that too much care cannot be taken to 
avoid any thing like contention ; but state the 
plain matter of fact, let it hit whom it may, 
without the least exaggeration or extenuation, 
and leave them to draw their own inferences. 

1 Your sincere friend and unworthy brother, 

A. Stone.' 

Mr. S. continued his unwearied exertions for 
the good of those in his vicinity, with his usual 
simplicity and godly sincerity, until the time 



arrived for U\< d< 

in an unpleasant - mind, 

• him ' be 

. u hen h< 

!ll." 

II!. d >, an<l ptrenta and family and 

friends; nor would any thing of a worldly nature 

m ; but he 

conviction of duty in 

i his kindred and 

How men for 

trial, he 

. how 

hard it is my friends, I should have 

!>ly he meant, that a full 

. ercome I ttion. 

himself to none but his divine 

Lord and M i had opened his 

h to him, ui>h 

the pu When parting with the family, he 

said, ' I do not 

[( ifl Q< | [e then ' 

.ell. 
Th lined by 

.Mr. S 

1 it wh< 

tedly 
rhapa is bo ! 

: tore pro; II in 

I 

far di ur count 



158 MEMOIR OF 

BOWER OF PRAYER. 

" To leave my dear friends and with sweet home to part 
Spreads the impress of gloom on the brow of the heart 5 
The thought, it is anguish, to dwell far away 
From them and the place where we've oft met to pray : 

With whom I have sat in Christ's banqueting house, 
And tasted the fruit there prepared for his spouse, 
While under his banner of love he did cheer 
My soul with sweet comfort, in answer to prayer. 

The place so endeared by many a tie 
Which binds my affection, will draw forth a sigh, 
When far at a distance my mind shall survey 
The sacred retreat where I've chosen to pray. 

Sweet bower, where the pine and the poplar have spread 
And woven their branches a roof over head, 
How often I've knelt on the evergreen there, 
And poured out my soul to my Saviour in prayer. 

The early shrill notes of the loved nightingale 
That dwelt in the bower, I observed as my bell 
To call me to duty, while birds in the air 
Sang anthems of praises as I went to prayer. 

; Twas under the covert of that pleasant -grove 
That Jesus was pleased my guilt to remove, 
Presented himself as the only true way 
Of life and salvation, and taught me to pray. 

How sweet were the zephyrs perfumed with the pine, 
The ivy, the olive, the wild eglantine 5 
But sweeter, far sweeter, superlative were 
The joys that I tasted, in answer to prayer. 



. 



ALVAN 159 

i«<l me to i: 
with hia presence my lonely retn 
lied me with raptures i 
Inditing in beaven'a own 

! ; and bid v<>u adit 

y my devotions in parts that are new, 
\\ knowing mv Saviour reaidea every wl 

Ami can in all places give answer to prayer. 

Although I may never revisit this shade. 

Yet oft I shall think of the vows I've here made, 

And ofi from a distance my mind will repair 

To the place where nay Je>us tirst answered my prayer. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

n - — C J — R 

resp- < ' 

icitmati — ( 
— I . — Tu Mr. 

I . P. 8. J 

When Mr. S. took his departure from all the 
endearments of his native place and country, he 
purposed to return a^ain alter a few years, to 
revisit the friends of his youth, his aned parents 
and family, and the scenes of past religious 
privileges and holy enjoyments. On that same 
day he commenced a journal of the incidents 
and labors connected with his journey to Illinois 
and his residence there, which he continued 
until near the close of his pilgrimage on earth. 
Extracts from his journal, and from letters to his 
kindred and friends in Massachusetts, will here 
be inserted. 



160 MEMOIR OF 

'May 2, 1831. Parted from friends to go to 
the West. " Natural tears" will be shed at such 
times. I feel that I do love my friends. 

'4. Felt very little enjoyment in religion. 
Heard dreadful swearing at New Lebanon, but 
had not love enough to God to reprove faithfully. 
O Lord, make me what I ought to be, to love 
thee supremely. 

'5. Left Albany at 7, a. m. in a canal boat. 
No seriousness among the passengers, except a 
lady whose husband had been practising physic 
in Troy. He came on board in liquor, and be- 
came the butt of ridicule for the whole company. 
Poor woman, I pity her. 

' 7. Passed Little Falls in the morning. 
Great expense laid out there. Men are vastly 
more engaged about the world than about re- 
ligion. Asked a profane driver, if it is the 
mark of a gentleman to swear. 'No/ said he, 
'not at all.' Soon after, passing him again, 
'Are you a Methodist?' said he. No. 'Are 
you a Roman Catholic ?' No. ' What society 
do you belong to V No society in particular. 
'You are a professor of religion.' Yes, I pro- 
fess the religion of Jesus Christ. 'What sect V 
Baptist. ' I have a sister that is a Baptist,' said 
he, 'and another a Methodist ; and they would 
be glad if their brother was ; but there is not 
much prospect of it at present.' I thought so 
too. Had a little enjoyment in secret prayer 
this evening, and some desire that the Lord 
would convert the miserable boatmen on the 
canal. 



ALVAN STONE. Mil 

'0. On board a boat with a crew of five and 
DO | A superstition. Down cam* 

the bowsnum half frozen and wet, roaring out 

that he hoped they would never hang an- 
other in the state, for it always made a cold 
summer after it. Gibbs the pirate was hung a 
few days before. 

MO. I find but very few who are not con- 
vinced of the truth of the Scriptures and the 
importance of true religion, notwithstanding all 
their caviling and excuses. 

'12. These swearing boatmen and drivers 
have serious thoughts ; and their case is not so 
hopeless as I imagined. Let every passenger 
who feels the subject of religion be faithful. ' \ 
have no sickness nor trouble,' says one, 'but 
pass through life perfectly happy.' What con- 
stitutes true happiness? said I. 'Change of 
heart.' Do you expect to enjoy this happiness ? 
'Not without a change of conduct.' And this 
was his perfect happiness !' 

Under this date are found the following re- 
solves respecting health. 
'Resolved, 

'1. That I will be temperate in food and 
drink, and be as regular as possible. 

'•2. That I will avoid night exposure. 

'3. That when property and health come in 
competition, there shall be no hesitation in sacri- 
ficing property.' 

Mr. S. had a very boisterous and unpleasant 
passage from Buffalo to Cleaveland, Ohio, at 



162 MEMOIR OF 

which place he arrived in the steamboat Enter- 
prise, about 8 o'clock, a. m. on the 20th of May. 
The same day he wrote a letter to his parents, 
detailing the particulars of his journey, but 
which need not be here inserted. Under this 
date he entered on his journal as follows r — 
' There is a tie that binds kindred to kindred ; 
and it is sweet to think of home and friends. 
May Goshen be blest, and father's family, with 
the rich outpourings of the Holy Spirit.' 

On the same day he left Cleaveland for New- 
ark, at 8, p. m. in a boat on the Ohio canal, 
with ' excellent accommodations and a table as 
well furnished as in a New England tavern. 
Next day wine and gin were set on table at 
dinner, but only two took gin and two or three 
wine. A good omen. Cards were introduced, 
but on the remonstrance of some passengers, 
they were laid aside. 

'22. Just finished reading the life of S. J. 
Mills. How devoted a servant of God ! Would 
that I possessed equal love to the character and 
kingdom of Christ, and such self denial and 
energy of character. My prayer is, that I may 
be as useful as he was. When will the time 
come, that this region shall be a habitation of 
holiness, and the glad news of salvation be dis- 
pensed every Lord's day in every town in this 
destitute part of Ohio. 

'Passed the village of Zoar, a settlement of 
Germans who believe in the inspiration of a cer- 
tain prophet that appeared in Germany about 
100 years since. Their present number is 



AL\ 163 

about ISO. Their grounds are in the nei 
order, and their buildings mostly covered with 
tile. Their property is in common, under the 

control of one leader. Marriage was not tolerat- 
ed till last fall, when about :2() couples were 
married.' 

Mr. S. baring arrived at Newark in the 

canal boat, journeyed thence to Cincinnati on 
wheels, which he reached on the :50th. Next 
day he engaged a steamboat passage to St. Louis. 

'June 2. The only fish that J have yet seen 
caught in the Ohio river is the perch. The 
method of catching is this : — A line is extended 
into the river, one end of which is made last to 
the shore and the other anchored with a stone. 
To this line, at the distance of every live 01 
feet, a short line of 12 or 14 inches is attached, 
on which the baited hooks are fastened. 

Passed Newburgh, Ind. a place of few 

houses. Found the milk sickness common. 

Fat cattle as well as poor frequently die with it. 

I es while sucking are taken trembling, sta<r- 

ger and die. Some men in the place have had 

it many times from drinking milk. No cause 

tained. Read Johnson's Ras- 

iduction. Read the Bible : a 

glori' ! would that its precepts were 

more deeply engraven on my heart. 

, '1. of the Mississippi, at the 

mouth of the Ohio. Went cm shore and into a 

cabin. 1' rightly; but not one able 

ad, ami no Bible. The land excellent, but 



164 MEMOIR OF 

fever and ague prevail. Cane grows luxuriantly. 
Deer, bears, wolves, turkies, and wild honey 
abundant. Informed by a Missourian that Bap- 
tists are much the most numerous in Missouri. 
The waters of the Mississippi are very turbid. 

'5. One fellow passenger has hope, but has 
not made profession. Some enjoyment in con- 
versation with him. There is great want of 
schools in Kentucky, Illinois and Missouri. 
Why am I not better prepared to act in the 
world ? O my leanness, my leanness ! And 
yet I may go to the living Fountain. 

'6. Arrived in St. Louis at 8, a. m. Looked 
round the city for three or four hours. There is 
a court house, jail, Catholic college and chapel, 
Presbyterian meeting house, Methodist meeting 
house, and market. Arrived by stage at Rock 
Spring, at 4, p. m.' 

With this place he was much disappointed ; 
for instead of a flourishing village, he found not 
a dozen buildings to constitute the far-famed 
Rock Spring ; and the literary seminary was no 
more. Not so will it be with the saints, when 
their journey of life is ended, and they arrive at 
the New Jerusalem. It will far exceed their 
highest expectations and their noblest hopes. 
Our beloved Stone felt no disappointment when 
he entered into heaven, to possess the promised 
rest and learn the science of that blessed place 
at Jesus' feet, where conflict, toil and sin are 
felt and known no more. 

After his arrival at Rock Spring, he was oc- 



in tra 

R .1 II. ] (nude to | 

'•.I in Boston : \\ hile 
tnnr he formed acquaintance in ntrj , 

and improTed his mind among the volui 
valuable and extensive library , and in tl 

>n< er of 
r i>i the M \\ 

gratified w ith certain 
particulars mentioned in the succei ding l< 
which i> thei 

brief narrative of Ins journey from Cleaveland 
to this pll 

To his brother, Mr. I\ P. S. 

[11, June 9, 1881. 

'Dear brother, 

1 Vnii w ill see by the date of this, that I am 
at the place of mj first destination. I arrived 

here i 6th, and am now m the enjoyment 

of good health. 

• Bfoel <»f the conntr J land and 

;• dreary, for there are but 
few settlements on the canal between them. 

«m1 hind, hut narrow, 

The timb 
oak, maple, beech, sycamore, buckeye, &c. 
iddle tl. 

eralh than tl 

ing, and p m mbl< i m lIk I I me I 

passed, i It 

16 



166 MEMOIR OF 

bears a white blossom, and the nut, I was told, 
resembles an acorn and is very poisonous. Cat- 
tle that feed on it are taken with the c staggers/ 
and not unfrequently die. Akron, on the sum- 
mit level, is a very thrifty place. There is a 
lake south of it, through which the canal passes, 
with the tow-path on a floating bridge. On 
descending from the summit level, the canal 
strikes the Tuscarawas, a stream as large as 
Deerfield river at Charlemont. I saw on the 
Tuscarawas the handsomest land that I ever 
saw any where ; but the country is said, even by 
the inhabitants living there, to be sickly. In 
the garden of the Germans at Zoar, I saw lem- 
ons from the fully ripe down to those in the 
blossom. Newark is a growing place, and at 
present does much business. A court house,, 
market, and Methodist meeting house are the 
only public buildings. 

'In company with Mr. Fontenelle and Mrs. 
Bartlett and family, hired a baggage wagon to 
take us to Dayton, a distance of 100 miles from 
Newark. We started Tuesday afternoon, but 
did not arrive till Saturday night, on account of 
bad roads. The principal places on the road 
are Granville, Columbus, and Springfield. Gran- 
ville is a handsome town mostly settled by Yan- 
kees. The road after passing Granville was the 
worst I ever saw. Mud in some places belly 
deep to the horses. Ohio mud is a different 
article from New England mud. When it be- 
gins to dry, it is nearly of the consistence of 
putty, and perhaps three or four feet deep. 



IMA 161 

When polish from the h 

shoe i ! iron. Thii i> not the 

. 
such soil, a dark M of the l>r 

and creeks u bat little 

labor laid out on T oi man i 

oiled to d 
rich. 

* The time will ho, when this re_ 

of country will contain a < potation, hut 

ttled. It i< 
erally heavily timbered with various kinds of oak, 
white wood, elm, some ash, black walnut, hick- 
I little maple, &,c. There are many (low- 
■nd plant?, especially on the prai- 
»r three of which we passed or came 
Columbus is very handsome! j 
uated on a ri-o of uTOund on the east bank of 
the Scioto. Springfield is a thriving place. 
tied, as i stormed, mostly by Yankees, 

have a law prohibit! i om resid- 

ing there without giving . 
behavior. 

* The taverns "between Newark and Dayton 

•nerally but the accommoda- 

tions within are good, for the inhabitants have 
enough to eat and drink, and are generally neat. 
Dayt'i I place, at the north end of 

the V 56 miles from Cincinnati. 

The water had been drawn off, for clear in _ 
canal of _ c. on the very day of our ar- 



168 MEMOIR OF 

c On Monday morning we took the stage for 
Cincinnati, where we arrived about 8, p. m. 
Next morning we engaged our passage on board 
the Whig, but did not start till about sunset. 
In 15 hours we came to Louisville, 100 miles, 
where we stayed 27 hours. It is situated above 
the falls, around which there is a canal. A very 
profane place. There are but few settlements 
on the banks of the Ohio below Louisville. 
New Albany on the north side just below the 
falls, is increasing rapidly. Saturday morning 
came in sight of the Mississippi. The Ohio 
water is quite as muddy as your saw mill stream 
in a freshet, but the Mississippi is very muddy 
and discolored. Our only drink was the water 
from both these rivers. The Missouri side 
of the Mississippi is much more handsome, 
having bolder banks than the Illinois side. 
We arrived at St. Louis on Monday the 6th 
of June. After looking round the city, I took 
the stage for this place, which is 17 miles 
east of St. Louis. In my route I passed what is 
termed the ' American bottom/ which is, I 
should think, two or three miles across before 
coming to the bluffs. The soil is about 25 feet 
deep, and as rich as could be made of the best 
manure. It is very unhealthy. After passing 
the bottom, I rose a bluff of one or two hundred 
feet and came on to the * barrens' and 'prairies.' 
The prairies are generally termed second rate 
land, and the barrens third rate. Some parts of 
the barrens have been prairies, but the prairie 
grass has been killed out by feeding; and hazel 



A!,\ \N |(i!» 

>, and oak, walnut, v\ r. 

m. 

•. hat i- termed third 
land . think from the appearani 

oil and productions, that it is equal or superior 

to any farm in Goshen. The water at this place 

II. The Bpi 

ther with the led probablj 

it the name of Rock Sprii 

1 1 am at present engaged in writing for Mr. 

little and read considerable, 

baling library and 30 or 

•10 periodicals weekly (mostly newspapers) from 

. part of the United States. It is now the 

si time of the year, as they arc ploughing 

out their corn. They do not hoc it. 

1 Your brother, A. I 



CHAPTER XIX. 

i 

— •/'. Mr. t '. /. — S 

'Junb 11, 1881. Attended church meeting 
in the afternoon, and felt somewhat revived. 
Church ) ted much ; 

. but other meetings arc not 

' |4. Toward night walked out and declaimed 
in tli 1 all sort 

birds tool a peepat me, to view probably lor 
the G iture of Cicen 



170 MEMOIR OF 

' 15. O how I long to be with friends at the 
East. I do not yet think that Illinois can be 
compared to my native land.' 

On the 24th, Mr. S. started for Alton, 30 
miles above Rock Spring, on the Mississippi, in 
company with brethren Paine, Smith and Going, 
to attend the Edwardsville Association. Upon 
the subject of removing the Seminary, he re- 
marks, ' All is not right. Something ought to 
be done; something can be done; and some- 
thing must be done/ ' The Association com- 
menced its session on Saturday and concluded 
on Monday. All went on in harmony and or- 
der. A handsome collection was taken for do- 
mestic missions. We have more preaching here 
than at an eastern association. ' 

Under date of June 30th, in a letter to the 
pastor of the church in Cummington, with which 
he continued in connexion until his removal to 
the church triumphant, after having mentioned 
some things concerning which he was disap- 
pointed in Illinois, he adds, ' Were it not that 
Israel's God has sworn to redeem his people, 
and did he not " sit as a refiner and purifier of 
silver," an Egyptian darkness would brood here 
eternally over the prospects of that people whom 
I call "my people." You are ready to con- 
clude, from what I have said, that I am home- 
sick, and spend my time in the unavailing wish, 
O that I had never, contrary to the advice of all 
my friends, left New England. No such thing. 
My motto is, "Don't give up the ship." My 
fate for three or four years at least, is linked 



ALv >NE. J7I 

with the church of Christ in the West, and I 

am determined by tl i of God to .-ink or 

swim with her. I have become acquainted with 
Dr. Edwards and some other engaged Chris- 
tians. They seem like .New England Bapti 

In the same letter, under date of July 1st, he 
1 Let tour or five nted and 

ardently piOUS, come out here, determined to 
know nothing save Jesus Christ and him cruci- 
fied, and let them act in concert, and irreatgood 
would be accomplished. They must be men 
that would " ^o the whole," not disturbed by 
b, that can put up with any thing, conciliat- 
ed conceding, yet untiring in ellbrt and 
determinded to surmount every obstacle. 

1 In most places through which I passed in 
coming to the West, the Baptist cause was not 
so flourishing as I expected. Instead of dis- 
couraging, this fact presents the greatest incen- 
tive to action. The fewer there are to act 
efficiently, the more it seems there is for me to 
do. O my leanness, my leanness ! 1 want a 
benevolence expansive as the ocean. I can 
see what that benevolence ought to be, and 
sometimes think I feel it, though selfishness is 
apt to prevail. 

'I wonder what the brethren and sisters in 
Cummington are doin?, and whether they have 
any religion except Sundays. The church in 
C. will never b brethren and 

sisters neglect to pray with and for one another. 
O, 1 hope that a spirit of brotherly love, forbear- 
ance and union will prevail in the church, and 



172 MEMOIR OF 

then the Lord will build Zion. I should rejoice 
to meet with you, but as I cannot at present, I 
must be content, hoping that you pray for me.' 

1 Sunday, July 3. Enjoyed myself very well 
most of the day, in reading, writing and devo- 
tional exercises. Attended Sabbath school and 
prayer meeting. Read Ward's Farewell Let- 
ters. When shall I feel as 1 ought for the poor 
heathen ? 

' 4. Independence. Attended a Sabbath 
school celebration at Belleville. A number of 
scholars spoke, and Messrs. Peck and Going 
made addresses. Monthly concert in the even- 
ing very thin.' 

To Miss J. T. 

< Rock Spring, St. Clair Co. 111. * 
July ?, 1831. ) 

' Much esteemed sister, 

' Having a few leisure moments, I cheerfully 
devote them in writing to you. 

1 First, I would gratefully acknowledge the 
receipt of those articles you sent me, together 
with a line expressing a kind interest in my 
welfare. I was somewhat disappointed in not 
seeing you and your sisters at Goshen on the 
Sabbath preceding my leaving Goshen. 

1 It was hard for me to think of leaving my 
friends for years, and perhaps for life. " Some 
natural tears were shed." But then when I think 
of the sacrifices which we ought cheerfully to 
make for Christ and his cause, that little which 



ALVAN BTONE. \l-l 

I have made sinks into insignificance, into very 
nothing. Could I be absolutely certain that 

nothing but the love of Christ and soids has in- 
duced me to act thus far, and could I fee] that 
ardor in the cause, which it appears to me I can 
sometimes get a glimpse at as attainable, I think 
I could rush "through tloods and flames," meet 
every danger, surmount every obstacle. O what 
a glorious sight would it be, to see even but a 
small band of determined spirits, combining and 
concentrating their efforts, knowing just what 
needs to be done, facing and bearing down all 
opposition to the accomplishment of their object, 
sacrificing cheerfully pleasure, ease, honors, 
property, every thing standing in the way of 
their glorious enterprise. Their work would be 
their pleasure ; honors immortal they would have ; 
and the Lord would take care to supply their 
temporal wants. And this sight will be seen. 
Yes ; there are some already who begin to un- 
derstand that they are not their own, and that 
every thing which can be done must be done. 
O that I were one ! But I fear I never shall be, 
though I do mean to be. For this grand object, 
sister, we must pray that the Lord would raise 
up such ; and you who have the care of children 
must pray and act just as if you expect that this 
will be the character of your scholars. Suffer 
me to speak a little here. I know what it is to 
wish the approbation of my employers and 
friends in school teaching, in short, to be popu- 
lar. And this wish is right and commendable, 
when not carried too far ; for no school can 






174 MEMOIR OF 

flourish, unless it has this approbation. But this 
is not all, no, nor the principal consideration of 
a pious teacher. We should act as if there was 
some Judson or Whitefield, an Ann Judson or 
Deborah Wade, among our scholars ; and God 
has placed us there, to be instrumental in their 
conversion, and in fitting them for their stations. 

'The churches here are lamentably torn by 
discord and party feeling. But I trust in God 
there is a star arising which will usher in the 
blazing day of a glorious sun. There is a con- 
siderable number here of those who will contend 
valiantly for the faith. All that is wanting, is a 
unity of feelings and plans and efforts : and 
blessed be God, this is commencing. There is 
a great deal to do here, and but few of the right 
stamp to do it. 

1 1 wish you to remember me, when none but 
God is nigh. 

' Your friend, A. Stone.' 

To Mr. D. I. 

'Rock Spring, 111. July 27, 1831. 
'Beloved brother, 

'When I sit down wearied with the duties, 
labors and perplexities of the day; when I look 
around and see no countenance but that of 
strangers, and what is more, when I reflect on 
the present condition of the western country 
and of the world, on counting up all the dis- 
couragements and difficulties that exist, my 
heart faints within me. O then how pleasant it 



\< to 
I 
. I possess ni th 

- 

i kind of 

"iind though all d< 

t truth, I 
think : ind with 

I, yet in the 

and 
but few of th 

dit- 
t he I . 

hun- 
i - ■ V- 

iri, t«» i 

nd Dot merely h 

and 

In th d rash to 

will b 

shoul •; 

I arc 

]>ort, 

lurch of 



176 MEMOIR OF 

Christ flourish most prosperously. Then we 
ought to establish two missionary stations imme- 
diately in South America, one in Mexico, one 
in Greece, and one in France. There are mul- 
titudes of other places which you know might 
be improved to the salvation of souls, if we as a 
denomination felt the true worth of souls. But 
these places which I have mentioned require 
immediate attention, and they can and must be 
supplied ; and you and I will help do it. 

1 Though we are situated at the extremes of 
the Union, let us not rest satisfied till our influ- 
ence meets in the centre. Let " Expect great 
things, attempt great things/' be our motto. I 
know that this is to be brought about by personal 
piety, self denial, and effort ; and I have vastly 
more need to exhort myself than others. Still 
it is pleasant to contemplate the subject; for " as 
iron sharpeneth iron, so the countenance of a man 
his friend." Two or three of us here have 
agreed to set apart a little time each day to pray 
for more personal piety in the Baptist denomina- 
tion, and an increase of faithful laborers. The 
more actively we engage in every effort, the 
more active we want to be. 

' A few young brethren present at the Baptist 
Union Meeting in Edwardsville which closed 
yesterday, got together to consult with regard to 
ways and means of promoting the cause of 
Christ. We formed ourselves into a union 
called the Young Men's United Brethren Society 
of Illinois. The sentiment of the whole meet- 
ing was, " Let us do something." 



177 

•i, broth help 

loramua nor a toy, but a well 

bred, nwII informed, industrious, healthy, 

denying, praying Female. Tin the points, 

depend upon it. Not wm should be lacking, 

almost ii 
penda upon mini Farewi 

A. Stoi 

Tn his close ob» rvation of men and mans 

lad Been some occasion l<>r the 

remarks in th be preceding 

r. May i be wisely improved by that 

3 to whom it is applicable, as a word in 

1 July 29. Aft wmt with brother 

what ran be done to educate the 

blacks. Thej arc most ardently anxious to 

P. wants to preach. B We would 

1 turn i God and ten thousand thank to 

. if you c 

idy to every good work, while exhort 
other- tioo, Air. S. lo< and upon 

id inquiring into their 

:' advancing their 

re. The poor d blacks moved his 

athy, and he aid in raising 

• promote 
other object of benevoh nee. Wh 

did not relinquish without bai ing 
ild, mde— fa i the 

16 



178 MEMOIR OF 

have reason to believe that the blessing of many 
who were benefited by his cares and labors, 
came upon him, for which he is now enjoying a 
rich reward in heaven. 



CHAPTER XX. 

To Mr. A. S.jr. describing the Country, and reconciling con- 
tradictory Reports — Birth day— -School at Ridge Prairie — 
Rules of Diet— Plan to improve Time — A Reflection. 

To his brother, Mr. A. S. jr. 

'Ridge Prairie, 111. Aug. 9, 1831. 
c Dear brother, 

' This settlement is about 6 miles north of 
Rock Spring, and 12 south of Edwardsville. It 
is called as healthy a situation as any in Illinois. 
There are many things in this country which I 
like, and many which I dislike. Notwithstand- 
ing the fertility of the soil, one can travel at less 
expense in New England than here. Although 
the land is level, the roads are poorer and more 
dangerous than those over the Green Mountains. 
There are steeper ascents on some of the largest 
stage roads here, than can be found on the road 
from Boston to Albany. This is frequently the 
case in crossing ravines and branches at right 
angles, where advantage might be taken of the 
ground by crossing obliquely. Where there is 
any descent the roads wash very much. I lately 
passed the road between the Prairie du^Rocher 
and Kaskaskia, which is most of the way directly 



ai.\ w - P0N1 • I V.> 

under the bluffs with a gentle rise and fall alter- 
nately, and in many places bo bad. that it was 
with difficulty the e could be kepi i 

up. 
'Sudden changes of the weather are frequent, 
and the nights hare been uniformly much cooler 
than in New England, blankets and comforta- 
bles DOl Ihm n ir Oppressive. It 0|USt he admitted, 
1 think, after all that is said by some to the 
contrary, that the country IS not BO fkvoraUe to 

health as New England, But few ruddy coun- 
tenances can , who have been here 

- : so that I can toll a family recently from 
the East without inquiry, 

"Tl ue objection to tliis country which 

will I main, the want of streams of pure 

water, and consequently of mill seats : for the 
streams arc muddy and often stagnant, falling so 
little as to furnish no mill scats. The mills are 
propelled by horse, ox, or steam power. The 

v mills run very prettily and do a B1 
business. Ox mills are constructed on the 
principle of the inclined tread wheel, and arc 

much the most common for grid nulls, carding 
machim 

'With regard to soil, no country in the world 

superior. The ' bottoms 1 

are called the first rate land, the 'prairie 1 the 

id, and the ' humus' tin,' third. Yet if the 
best farm in AVdliam-!tiirL r h could he covered 
t \\ depth with the BOll from the lianvih, 

it would do no injury. N on might 

ingredi find for the purpose in W . 



180 MEMOIR OF 

and compound them in the best manner to form 
a rich earth, and you could not form one supe- 
rior to that of that part of Ridge Prairie in 
which I am now situated. The prairie here 
varies from one half to one mile and a half in 
width, well timbered on each side. In passing 
through the corn fields, one is obliged to look 
up to see the ears, and I have seen some that a 
man could not reach with his hand. 

'This part of Illinois has been peopled chiefly 
with emigrants from Virginia, Kentucky, and 
Tennessee. The state of morals is generally 
very low, yet there are many pleasant families 
in this region, some having come to free them- 
selves from the influence of slavery. There is 
a great change taking place in some of the 
western slaveholding states with regard to slave- 
ry, and many feel anxious to rid themselves of 
the evil. 

' It has frequently been a question in my 
mind, Which would be most desirable, to be a 
good general scholar and excel in no particular 
branch, or to excel greatly in one department, 
and for that superiority sacrifice others'? I 
think this will well apply to the question, Which 
is preferable, New England or the West ? New- 
England has many advantages which cannot be 
had here, and we have some here far superior to 
New England. I have no hesitation in saying, 
that farmers enjoy themselves much better there 
than here. I might perhaps say the same of 
other professions. People are not so contented 
here as there. 



4 When in Massachi I have heai ; 
Grom this oountrj 

thing desirable, and other reports declaring it 

the worst of all lands, and both from 

hie sources. I h;i\e heen frequently at l< 

know how to reconcile these contradictions; bat 
now perfectly obvious. Imagine yourself 

trudging along a dusty prairie road in the middle 
of a hot summer's day, with the heat of an almost 
vertical sun pouring Upon you. Not a shade 
near; not a breath of wind to move the sultry 
air, which s< Dough to Stifle you. 

come to a little low log hut, which you can 
see through between the loirs in a dozen pit 
without a tn !tcr it from the hot sun, 

which dart- its beams upon it with sufficient 
power to nearly set it on fire. Perhaps a rn 
fence surrounds a patch of ground, where the 
tall weeds have the mastery of whatsover may 
have been planted. In the house, you will Bee 
a parcel of pale dirty children, some of them 
shaking in their n\<s> with the ague ; the \\ 
half naked di .te skeleton of a woman, 

and the husband stretched on a miserable bunk 
scorching with fever. You Deed travel but 
three or four such days, and make but a few 
such calls, you are prepared to repr< 

death and destruction as reigning Triumphant in 
the land. 

'On the other hand, conceive a road winding 
among the trees, and yourself riding aloi 
of a pleasant day in autu 
the wild plums or the grape bend trees 

16* 



182 MEMOIR OF 

over your head beneath them. You come to a 
house situated in a grove skirting the margin of 
a rich prairie. You call, are made welcome, 
and feel yourself at home. You see acres of 
the stoutest corn, a granary with hundreds of 
bushels of wheat, and cattle almost without 
number. You may at such a time and place 
see all that is desirable in a country, without 
seeing any of its evils; and you would be led 
from this to conclude it was in fact the promised 
land. Even when seen under certain circum- 
stances and at some seasons, in its natural state, 
it presents attractions superior perhaps to any 
other country. But still it is a country that can- 
not more than any other, of itself make one hap- 
py. And here is the mistake. Many imagine 
that in such or such a place they would be hap- 
py. The longer I live, the more I am convinced 
of this one thing, that true happiness consists in 
perfect contentment; and no one can be truly 
contented in a state of unreconciliation with 
God ; and that the conscience of each unregen- 
erate man, unless "seared as with a hot iron," 
testifies against him and makes him wretched, if 
not habitually, in moments of reflection. 

1 Tell father's family I am well. My love to 
all your family. 

1 Your brother, A. Stone. 

'Aug. 13. Thought on the subject of elec- 
tion : it is plainly a Bible doctrine. Called at a 
house for water : found a woman half Christian, 
half skeptic, if such can be. O that I could 



ua \n i 33 

I '!in>i, w hen Bitting by the irell o 

mar 

• 15, ' Time flies." This is mj birth i 

ity four year- ha 

return. 1 have great r humiliation and 

prayer to God to make the remnant of my days 

"ill than my past have been, If I am 

to live, let me live to thee, my Saviour. It' I 

before the close of another year am to leave 

time, prepare me for thyself. Teach me so to 
number my days, that I may apply my heart 
unto wisdom.' 

About the loth of August, he commenced a 
school at Ridge Prairie, in which he not only 
attended to the ordinary branches of school 
education, but also gave occasional lectures i D 
botany, cV <*. which were doubtles enter- 

taining and useful. It was a principle with 
him in school teaching, to mak thing 

plain and understood, if possible, before he 
passed it; and also to ijive all the useful knowl- 
time and circumstance would permit; for 
he desired to be faithful as in the sight of Ciod. 

When Mr. S. was employed in his school on 
Ri(li r e Prain ttlement, Illinois, he 

probably penned the following 

'rui iet. 

*' ] . I will eat meat but once a day at most, and 
drink warm drinks but once a day at most. 

"1. I will abstain from articles of food con- 
cocted of unripe materials. 



184 MEMOIR OF 

c 3. I will endeavor as much as possible to be 
uniform in time and quantity. 

6 4. I will shun excess in fruit, to which I am 
prone.' 

Time he esteemed so valuable, that he was 
exceedingly careful not to waste any portions of I 
it in idleness or frivolous conversation. He 
would always employ himself in labor or in j 
study, or in acts of benevolence to those around 
him ; and if a review did not afford some good I 
account of the past, he noted in his journal, ' I 
have lost the day !' 

Here is his plan for the employment of his 
time while a teacher at Bethel settlement, XI 1 1— ; 
nois. 

1 Rise early, 15 minutes before 5 o'clock. 

1 After devotion, set immediately about read- 
ing or writing, till breakfast ; and after, till 8 
o'clock. 

'Start for school at 8. On the way, learn 
something for declamation. 

1 A lecture once a week in school, on Wednes- 
day. 

1 Leisure time at noon, improve in reading. 

' Preserve a cheerful temper in school. 

1 At the close of school, read till dark, and 
write till 9 o'c'ock. 

* Let no moment pass unemployed, but be 
active in every thing. 

1 In all things strive to realize my dependence 
on God, and cultivate a spirit of active piety.' 



\\.\ w STONE. 

We resume his journal, with the insertion ol 

an apposite remark. 

'Aug. :20. Rainy. Parents should avoid 
ling. 

'21. Read Jones 1 Church History. Went 
to the African meeting, and heard from these 
words, " Who hath believed our report!' 1 Re- 
paired to the water, where four were baptized. 

'2'). This evening, prize declamation at 
Amherst. They are now improving their minds, 
and I am doing nothing scarcely for that pur- 
pose, but plodding in school. T am determined 
to make more etFort to learn. 

'24. How have I been living! I came here 
professedly to do good, and still I am, as it were, 
doing nothing. I have not that sense of eternal 
things which I had at Ashfield, and do not walk 
so circumspectly, but am more conformed to the 
world. By thy grace, O Lord, I am determined 
to live a more self denying life, and try to honor 
thy name. O give me a tender conscience, and 
a delight in thy service. Commencement at 
Amherst to day. Some show with pride their 
talents; some are disappointed. 

' 25. What can I do to day for the honor of 
God and the good of my fellow men? Teach 
me, Lord, and help me to perform. Lord, for- 
give my unfaithfulness.' 

This is an inquiry worthy of every read 
" What can I do to day for the honor of God 
and the good of my fellow men?" And happy 
would it be for us each, having discovered duty, 



186 MEMOIR OF 

with alacrity to do it. This would be living to 
purpose. And thus doing, we should enjoy the 
approbation of God, the testimony of conscience, 
and the satisfaction to perceive that we do not 
live in vain. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

To Mr. D. C. on settling in a new Country, fyc.— To Mrs. R. 
C. on the Location of his School, Spc. — Religion makes hap- 
py—To Mr. J. R. B. on a Night in Prayer— Expressions of 
Gratitude. 



To Mr. D. C. his brother-in-law. 

thel settlement, 
Sept. 1, 1831. 



1 Ridge Prairie, Bethel settlement, 111. > 



c Dear brother, 

c I intend to write to my friends in the East 
about once a month, and having promised to 
write to you, I now redeem that promise. 

'Your principal inquiries will undoubtedly be 
concerning the country. I begin by making 
the old statement, that it is a " fine country. " 
But why is it a fine country ? Because it has a 
soil that is inexhaustible, and no waste land. 
When this is said, " the story is told." The 
land produces in profusion almost without labor. 
One who goes into a new country any where, 
must expect to fare hard for one or two years. 
People that come to this country generally make 
some wild calculations. From most parts they 
have been so used to woods, that they prefer to 



owth of timber \ 
settlin tirie. I) aii ic bein 

old, were I about to * ttle d< m d as a 

r, rather draw my timber I ■ 

on prairie, than land 

wholly timbered. fler lii ing h- 

short time, would not take a timfo 

' and be obliged to improi e it T 

prairie ifl the healthiest situation. BaCOO ifl the 

prune an: i d. The literary and i 

privileges cannot be compared with 
id. 
'I have thus far filled my sheet with informa- 

• in a material world, we 
should therefore lake Care of OUI and 

fulfil the d umbent 

a civil and social community. But we 
rna of a far weightier import to &tten< 

immortal minds, and are t<» exist I 
after. That the world lieth in wickedness, and 
that we individually must become I I to 

oful Coll- 
d writ 

I land test if 
- with a hot iron. What then 
it' he _ whole world 

and I i .' J l< 

farm, h surrounded w ith a p 

lention i 

new, tor I 



188 MEMOIR OF 

what your present feelings are with regard to 
religion ; but this I know, that if you or any 
other individual have not made his peace with 
God, the condition of such an one is most 
wretched. He that is wise is wise for himself; 
but he that scorneth alone must bear it.' 

To his sister, Mrs. R. C. 

< Sept. 1, 1831. 

1 Dear sister, 

' I am well, for which T desire to thank God* 
I am teaching a school of about 25 scholars, in 
a very pleasant neighborhood, perhaps as much 
so on every account, as can be found in Illinois. 
My school is held in a meeting-house of the 
Emancipating Baptists, and is most delightfully 
situated in the edge of a pleasant wood, up to 
which the wheat fields come, as smooth as 
Northampton meadows and richer. The wood 
is black walnut, hickory, persimon, (which bears 
a very good fruit,) oak, &c. Grape vines over- 
spread the trees. Wild plums are very abun- 
dant ; they are a very rich fruit, better than 
any cultivated plum that I ever ate; they are 
about the size of a partridge's egg, red, and 
taste somewhat like a peach and some like a 
cherry. There are acres covered thick with 
them. I frequently see wild turkeys. Deer are 
not plenty, though killed occasionally. 

' Monday, Sept. 5. I am now at a meeting of 
the Baptists called Emancipators, which com- 
menced last Friday. (The Emancipators differ 



AI.\ l-!> 

from other Bt] ill the subject of 

1 d has ii ibout 

1000, many of whom are ;ui\i«»u> to know 

they musl ived, and some b 

brought into the glorious liberty of tl 

I think I am thankful to God that he is n<>t lim- 

ited to working in hut oneway; and tl. 

that I do nol 
with, ii nol to condemn the whole. 

1 M. ri( m and feelings on the Bubject ofreli- 
• ly that they a pre in 
gland. I think I feel an increasing 
-ire to live and die to the glory of my Saviour, 
to be what he would have me he, and do what 
lie would have me do ; and when I look around 
and see what is to he done, 1 almost wish I 
a thousand bodies. But I oughl to us 
I have better than I do. 1 wonder wh. 
feel willing to <rive up all for Christ ; for Ul 
you i cannot be his disciple. My hr 

all your family, and especially to lather and 
mother. Use your influence to have them made 
as comfortable as possible. 

A. Stum .' 

'Sept. 11, Sabbath. Attended my Afri 

school for the first time. Of 1, but 

one 

'Oct I. Kept the day as a fast ( > I 
revive thy work. () that I were humbl< , spirit- 
ual, and devoted, as 1 ougl I to 

Communion in the eV( 
heart melted in some dee.i 
17 



190 MEMOIR OF 

ly so. Witnessed for the first time the washing 
of feet. I do not view it as obligatory. One 
man found the Saviour, and was exceedingly 
happy. 

1 3. Thousands probably at this moment are 
praying to God for the success of missions. Why 
do I not feel more on this subject ? When will 
the love of Jesus constrain me entirely ? Let 
me spend and be spent in the service of the 
Lord, and that willingly and with delight. 

1 10. Sunday School concert in the evening, 
which a considerable number attended. 

1 16. Sunday School as usual ; 10 in my 
class. Went to the African school ; found the 
people at meeting. The Africans have religion 
worth possessing : it makes them happy here, if 
nothing else. 

1 17. How soon, alas, do the firmest resolu- 
tions fail ! And what can be done ? If I rea- 
son, it is in vain. But let me henceforth trust 
more in God. " To whom but thee shall mor- 
tals go ?" Thou hast the words of eternal life. 
Lord, direct me in what is duty. Had more 
freedom than usual in prayer. 

1 IS. How little do I grow in grace ! Per- 
haps none. Search me, O God, and know my 
heart ; try me, and know my thoughts, and lead 
me in the way everlasting. 

c 27. At meeting in the evening, spoke on 
the importance of being sincere in prayer and 
uniting with those who speak. 



ALYW STONE. 191 

To Mr. J. R. B. 

'Ridge Prairie, Nov. 20, 189 
1 Very dear brother, 

1 1 think you must either have forgotten 
or your letter miscarried. This ! believe 
makes you indebted to me three, since I have 
received one from you ; but though you leave me 

to guess your thoughts, 1 will still show you 
mine on paper. 1 am not sure that I have writ- 
ten you since coming here ; but if not, you owe 
me two on the " old score." 

' There is not one here, to whom I feel free 
to unbosom myself, when trials and temptations 
are let loose upon me. I sometimes feel a strange 
loneliness, and wish I could for a few hour 
joy the company of some New England friends ; 
yet notwithstanding I so much long for your 
conversation and sympathy, I cannot wish you 
here, for under present circumstances I think 
you will be more useful where you are. If the 
inclination of the mind be right, we can be use- 
ful any where. 

1 Brother B. do you remember Ashfield scenes ? 
I think you do. I look back upon part of that 
time we spent there as the happiest in my life. 
But O how dark were some of my hours ! You 
remember, about the time I felt so low, that I 
was absent from my room during one night : and 
that in the morning you asked me where I had 
been, and I told you that perhaps sonic future 
day I would let you know. J will tell you. Dur- 
ing that time of darkness in my mind, what 



192 MEMOIR OF 

troubled me most was, that I feared I had not 
that grace which would support me in time of 
temptation and trial, should it ever come upon 
me, and consequently that I had not the true 
grace of the gospel. The question would often 
come into my mind, ' Now if you were called to 
such or such a trial for the sake of your religion, 
would not your courage fail and you deny your 
Master V Among other things which were pre- 
sented to my mind, (by what agency I cannot 
tell,) was this : ' You have not even love enough 
to your Saviour to imitate his example.' I think 
you will remember that pretty hill back of Mr. 
Smith's. Something seemed to say to me, ' If 
you are a true disciple of Christ, you could deny 
yourself one night's sleep, and pray on that hill > 
during one night.' In vain did I reason that it 
would produce no good effect, that it would be 
of no merit. ' It is a test of your obedience,' 
would be the reply. And at length one night, 
when you I think started to give a chemical lec- 
ture upon gas, I went on to the hill, where it 
was covered with those trees, and spent the 
night. 

* Wishing you prosperity and adversity as the 
Lord shall see best, and especially the light of 
his countenance, I must bid you farewell. 

A. Stone.' 

' Dec. 4. Brother James Lemen preached on 
the barren fig tree. I felt ashamed and distress- 
ed before the Lord. Read in Doddridge's Rise 
and Progress, and spent some time in trying to 



pray. Spent the evening at brother Dart 
reading aloud the memoir of Mrs, Jud 
1 With gratitude to God would I remember ins 

goodi, i no ill the way lie lias led me, Q 

why was I caused to think and act 00 the sub- 
ject of religion, while many of my associates are 
now living according to the course of this world, 
and some of them, alas, have [eft time without 
hope ! O the unbounded, the unmerited mercy 
of God, and this day hears testimony to it! 
How vain, how wandering were my thoughts in 
his house this day ! Yet after my return to my 
home and my closet, he has I trust condescend- 
ed to visit me with kind rebukes, and with some 
sense of eternal things. And can I Jiope that 
he who died for sinners owns me for his own, 
me, so proud, so vain, so worldly, so unl 
ing ? I hardly dare hope it. Yet he is willing 
to receive the very chief of sinners. O that my 
heart could relent ! O that I could feel daily 
an entire devotion to him, and an abiding s 
of eternal things ! Create in me a clean b 
O God, and renew a right spirit within me. 
May religion be revived in my heart, in my 
school, in this settlement, and in the world, pure 
and undented.' 



17* 






194 MEMOIR OF 



CHAPTER XXII. 

I 

To his Mother, an Expression of Affection— To Mr. D. 1. on 
Lack of Friends, fyc. — New Year. 

To his Mother. 
' Ridge Prairie, 111. Dec. 13, 1831. 
c My dear mother, 

' With pleasure I devote the remainder of this 
evening in writing to you, for I think you will 
still be glad to hear from me once in a while, 
though I may have often caused you painful feel- 
ings by acting contrary to your wishes, many 
times probably needlessly, for which I sincerely 
ask your forgiveness. Though I write more 
particularly to you, yet father will consider what 
I write as also addressed to him. 

' My health has been good since coming here. 
I do not know but this country favors my health 
as well as New England. People must expect 
to be sick and die in any country ; but still I do 
not think that on the whole this is quite so 
healthy a country as Massachusetts, especially for 
foreigners. The countenance has a much more 
sickly cast here than at home, (for I shall still 
call New England home.) When I first came 
here I thought the people were all going to die 
of the fever and ague, so great a contrast did 
their pale faces present to the ruddy countenan- 
ces of the Yankees ; and now I can tell those 
recently from the East by only seeing them. 
Children raised in this country, except on the 



1 bottoms/ are as health? 1 think, and have as 

little sir!, ist 

4 I am rery much pleased with this settlen 

I i> at pr< m in small, hut 1 e\; • 

when people finish gathering theii corn, to bare 

6Q 01 60. 1 think from what I hear, that I ;im 
Well liked. The principal com- 
plaint is, that I do not " hickory their bat 

enough. iris full grown attend. 

'1 should he glad to spend a t'ru evening 
lather's fireside occasionally ; hut that is what I 
do not expect this long while yet, if e?er. \ 
hope von are in a situation that tiie remainder of 

your days may pass happily awa; . I ;. 

r from Rachel, stating that th< some 

revival in ;, which 1 waa L r lad t<» ! 

Still 1 am afraid many will he left to ' 
and wonder and perish." 

It seem- a wonder of wonders that I I 
induced to consider on my latter end. \V1,< n I 
look back upon my past life, I can see that the 
goodness of God has followed me in all my way. 
The Lord has thwarted my fondest plans, which 
seemed hard at the time, hut now I can 
plainly that it was for the best. It appeal 
me that a lon;_ r life arduously spent in hi- sen ice 
is none too much ! No. When I on it, 

I feel as if my highest wish would be 
and • for him. I ! ? of pro; i 

irticle of influence, w bich In- i 
me, I hope to hi- cam 

I am probabl; 
his service that ever he permitted to 1; 



196 MEMOIR OF 

C I hope and pray, my dear mother, that you 
feel an increasing zeal for the cause of that pre- 
cious Saviour who shed his blood for you and 
me, and that you are becoming fast assimilated 
to the happy disposition and feelings of that ho- 
ly company with which you and I, if washed in 
the blood of the Lamb, shall mingle. When I 
consider the worth of the soul, the shortness of 
time and duration of eternity, I wonder at the 
indifference manifested by the great majority to" 
so all important a subject. But then, when I 
reflect on the fascinations of the world and the 
hardness of the heart, it is rather a wonder that 
any are saved. 

' You used to express doubts whether I cared 
much for my parents and friends at home. This 
was not true ; and even had it been, while I was 
in New England, there is scarcely a day now, 
when separated far from you, but what I feel 
the evidence that your doubts were not true. 

* That the last years of your lives, my dear 
parents, may be peaceful and happy, is my sin- 
cere desire and prayer. And if we live the 
lives of the righteous, should we no more see 
each other's faces here, we may hope to 
spend a blissful immortality together, in a world 
where sorrow never enters. May this be our 
high aim, and at last our happy lot. 

s From your affectionate son, A. Stone.' 



u.\ w BTO! 
To Mr. I). 1. 

' B it, HI. i 

( » 

Li friend and brother, 

1 While thousands air delighting tin I 
in carnal mirth, my delight and pli II be 

in addressing a friend on whom mj busy thou 

often rest, though separated far frOID me. I 

i?ed jroura in due time ; and if you h 
friend from whom you receive intelligi i 
can imagine my t ; d the pen 

1 The pleasure I received on finding m 
teemed by you, was in a great degree dashed l>y 
the reflection, that that esteem resulted firoi 

-rect idea in relation to my character and 
worth. Let me earnestly, most earnest! 
an interest in your prayers, that the lo?< 
Christ may constrain me constantly. I D 

1 as I ouirht to he ; hut it 
appears to me that I am growing renii 
Red< e more and more. The 

sons ! ire many, hut none of tl. 

sahle. One is, I am alone. True I 
many I Ihristians hen- : hut I 

and B. and A. at least ii" 1 
too look upon me as one bj mj - If T 

kind and cordial in their friend- 
ship; yet from difference in our manner <■! 
i, habits of thinking, & c. th< 

ntiment and comma 
of k pints, which to n iMe. 

'Do you ask what are my ; for the 



198 MEMOIR OF 

future ? Providence only can reveal. So far as 
I can judge, I shall never see it my duty to be a 
preacher. If I know my own heart, it is my 
sincere desire that I may be fitted by divine 
grace for that important, honorable and glorious 
work ; but I think there is less and less proba- 
bility that this will ever be the case, should my 
life be spared. I know of no employment more 
probable than school teaching. When my 
school closes, my present calculation is to study 
under the tuition of father Loom is at Alton. 

1 Sabbath schools are generally prospering. 
There are difficulties in their way, which one 
unacquainted with the country does not consi- 
der. I have been engaged in two the past sum- 
mer, (one black,) both of which are suspended, 
one till spring, and the other till a stove can be 
procured for our meeting house. O this proud 
heart of mine ! If I am made useful in any 
measure, I am prone to take a little praise to 
myself. 

'This settlement is advancing in improvement 
in various things. They are mostly Emancipa- 
tors, and have two of the ablest preachers of the 
denomination. Some who were violently op- 
posed to temperance societies, tract and mis- 
sionary operations, have lost their prejudice. 
We have lately procured 15 dollars' worth of S. 
S. books, and money for a large stove in the 
meeting house. From recent visits to several 
families, I think our Sabbath school will be 
larger than in the summer. Some scholars 
seem to possess lately something of an inquiring 



spirit, which I hope h ill end in A in- 

SI Jl 1 do to be »?( d I I 

to hear I 

I 

1 \\ additions, but do 

■ iihmI to w e. \\ 
mean is, that when ifa 
ib erupt: 

II be n<» more 
said or done f >r a fortnight or month. IV 

it frequently mis* the mark 

acquainted * ith the habits 

and manners of the inhabitant moat 

• rm in a measure to the 
with whom tfa ngnant it 

may he to their former not; 

rd will make von eminently 
useful as a minisl the ardent and daily 

prayer of your friend, A Si. 

Heard of the party last night at 

broth w. When will Chri- 

live like Christians! I think I am remii 

maki ct in all in\ i 

nun with the world. 

Took ni\ the 

morn; 
arriv. 

with brother Smith till 12 
ommem 

, >m I had a pi If 



200 - MEMOIR OF 

I ever marry, I pray the Lord to grant me a 
pious wife. After meeting, a number of us 
went to the Seminary and prayed till past mid- 
night. An interesting time. Thus we began 
the new year. May it be continued in prayer 
and serving God by all there present. 

'Jan. 15, 1832. Having commenced a new 
year, how should my heart be melted in grati- 
tude to God for his goodness the year past ! 
My only hope is in the Lord. I know I cannot 
do as I ought; I cannot have one right thought 
without his aid. But he can turn my mind as 
easily towards himself and eternal things, as he 
could the hearts of those of old whom he blessed. 
Dark to human sight are future events. How 
eventful will the present year probably be, as it 
is enveloped. May it be eventful in good. May 
each moment of my life be spent so, that the 
review from a death-bed may be pleasant. I am 
almost in despair ; yet there is one sheet anchor 
of hope, that is the mighty power, the entire 
ability of God. He has my heart in his hand, 
and he can mould it as easily as the potter the 
clay. O my Maker, make me willing to be any 
thing ; make me a clean heart, I pray thee, for 
thy Son's sake. Amen. 

■ Sunday school organized with 54 scholars. 
Brother Joseph Lemcn preached from Prov. 
viii. 17. " I love them that love me; and 
those that seek me early shall find me." S-pent 
part of the afternoon in prayer. Conversed in 
the evening on family prayer. 

1 22. Sunday school recited for the first time 



\LVAN STON 90] 

since procuring the library. Chosen l>v th- 
class as their teacher. 1 feel too little the irorth 
of the immortal soul. O that the Spirit of the 
Lord would guide me and the | 

want that mind which was in Christ Jeans, I 
want to feel religion all the time. Read in 
meeting some intelligence from Bonnah, and 
prayed. Read this evening A. Dickim 
mon to professors on the subject of temperance, 
and Memoir of S. J. Mills.' 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

To Mrs. R. C. on the Responsibilities: ot' P, — / 

Children, on Temper - ith School, $c.— To R 

\\\ on Marnier . and the sort of pr 

trs needed — Love to Christians — Leaves Bethel >>ttternent. 

To his sister Mrs. R. C. 

'Ridge Prairie, 111. Jan. 1832. 
f Dear sister, 

'I was truly glad to hear from you, and hope 
that I shall often be favored with a letter from 
you. But I was glad principally to hear of the 
revival in Goshen, and that you had become 
decidedly on the Lord's side. I will not how- 
ever dissemble to you, that I was sorry to hear 
you had united with the Congrr'uational church ; 
but if you can persuade yourself that you have 
gone in that way which the word of God pointed 
outmost plainly, I am content; and if not, I 
hope the love of Christ will constrain JO 
obev even the " lea<t of his command 



202 MEMOIR OF 

1 How great is the responsibility resting upon 
the professor of religion. Almost every action 
and word has a bearing upon the destiny of 
those around. If the individual live as he 
ought, that influence will be salutary ; but if he 
disgrace his profession, what a reproach does he 
bring upon the cause of Christ ! Eternity only 
can tell the injury done to immortal souls by an 
ungodly worldly professor. 

' You need not be discouraged, if you find 
difficulties and self-denial in the Christian 
course. This vain world is not a friend to 
grace, to help us on to God. I judge him who 
endures most for the cause of Christ to be the 
most favored of the Lord. It appears to me, 
that it would be my first wish, to wear out my 
life in the service of the Lord ; but I despair of 
ever doing much good. I suppose from the 
conversation I have had with you, that you have 
a comfortable hope for me ; but I know scarcely 
a professor for whom I do not have more charity 
than for myself. I almost wish sometimes to 
get into some obscure corner of the earth and 
live unknown, and die there. Sometimes people 
have asked me if I do not intend to preach. If 
they knew me as well as I know myself, they 
never would ask me that question. When I 
look at myself, it appears to me that I am not fit 
for any thing, preaching, keeping school, or any 
thing else ; and I sometimes fear that I shall be 
left to bring some great reproach upon the cause 
of Christ. Still the Lord is very good ,to me. 
My life and health are spared, and I have every 



Al,\ 

tempore] blessing which I c I my 

prayer is, that my portion may not be in tins 

world. 

1 To the children. 

1 While I am writing comfortably seated with 
the d ii, or wading ancle d< ep in the 

mud: you are probably housed up with a quar- 
ter of i cord of wood on you 1 Fai 
through the Bnow up to your arm-. Wintei 
in about the 20th »>f November, and continued 
re till about the iir>t of this month, since 
i time we have had what in [ land 

would be excellent sugar weather. I & 
a mile from my school, and it is mud, mud all 
the way. 

1 Drinking whiskey is going out of fashion 
here. I have my scholars write composition, 
and there is no subject so often cli whis- 

key drinking. It is attacked in prose and \ 
I have been correcting a composition this i 
ing, which covers a sheet of paper, written 
boy about Edwin's ane ; the subject was, Which 
had a man better take, whiskey or ar 
do not remember whether Edwin and Ezra be- 
longed to the temperance society before 1 
away or not; if not, I hope they will join, and 
live up to their pledge of tempera i. 

1 I hope, children, that you attend the Sud 
school. But do not think that merely attending 
will do you any good. No; unlesa the truths 
you there learn sink down into your h< 

. in, producing repentance and faith in 
Christ, so far from proving 
only aggravate your condemn;. 



204 MEMOIR OF 

1 Your mama writes me that there is a revival 
in Goshen. How glad should I be, to hear that 
you and others of your companions had a part 
in it. You will remember that half your num- 
ber have been taken away by death ; and now 
you are left, either to improve the space given 
you for repentance, or fill up the measure of 
your iniquities and finally sink under the dis- 
pleasure of an offended God. Why will you not 
think of these things before it be too late ? 
Remember that you must be born again, or you 
cannot see the kingdom of God. And such is 
the instruction and light which you have on the 
Scriptures, that probably a very few years, and 
perhaps months, will decide your eternal state. 
Let me close then, by earnestly entreating you 
to repent young. A. Stone.' 

1 Feb. 1. How little spirituality ! How much 
worldly-mindedness ! I do doubt whether I ever 
was a partaker of the grace of God. Thou 
knowest, O Lord, that it is my desire to be made 
like thee. O take away this love of the world, 
and let me find my all in thee, love thy word, 
thy people, thy worship, thy Sabbath, and every 
thing that pertaineth to thee.' 

To Rev. D. W. 

■ Ridge Prairie, 111. Feb. 19, 1832. 
c Very dear pastor, 

6 A copy of the Minutes of the Massachusetts 
Convention lately fell into my hands, the perusal 
of which brought so fresh to my memory New Eng- 



\L\ \N STONE* 

land Friends, and especially yourself, that 1 

not deny myself the gratification of d< 

tew moments in writing to yqu. Often l 

think or yon, and fee] sincerely desirous ol 
welfare and that of your family, together with 

the little church committed to you, of which I 

am permitted to call myself a member I 

not tell yon that 1 was rejoiced to Bee by the 

Minutes, that the Lord had visited his hei 

in Cummington. May he increase the work a 

hundred fold. 

1 Through the abundant goodness of tie Lord, 
my health has been good since coming ! 
although last season has been called the I 
sickly of many past. And what is more, I am 
contented. I have not yet regretted leaving 
Massachusetts. When my present Bchool shall 
have closed, I expect, after a trip through the 
western parts of Missouri, to study with f 
Loomis at Alton. 1 am as undecided as 
ever with regard to my future course ; l 
likely it will be teaching. Preaching would be 
my delight, I think, though an arduous work, 
were I possessed of the requisite qualifications; 
but a knowledge of my deficiency forbidf 
tirely any thoughts of that sacred work. 

1 You would be surprised, wore you to wit] 
the manner of proceeding in meetings here, and 
the contrast in the deportment of the Bame in- 
dividuals at different times. Enter a 
and from the feeling manifested you would judge 
that there is a crreat excitement anion.: the 
peopl- t them on their farms the next day, 

I-' 



206 MEMOIR OF 

and you might perhaps hear the subject of reli- 
gion mentioned, and perhaps not. As you said 
of a certain brother, " it is their way." You 
will be best able to judge whether it is a gospel 
way. The church here are Emancipators. They 
generally hold to the washing of feet, and are a 
litlle more Arminian than the New England 
Baptists. 

' This state is destined to become one of the 
most populous in the Union. But the church of 
Christ will never flourish here, as it will in the 
mountainous regions of the United States. I 
have no doubt that the church will eventually 
overspread the whole earth, plains as well as 
hills and dales ; but it is among those rugged 
portions where the rich gifts of nature are scat- 
tered more sparsely, that civil liberty will hold 
its strongest empire, and least worldly-minded- 
ness and most love will prevail in the church of 
God ; and in such places the progress of religion 
will be seen most cheering. 

1 Spiritual men are wanted every where ; men 
constrained by the love of Christ. The preach- 
er who can preach in any place and under any 
circumstances, who can turn to advantage every 
occasion which rrfay happen, who will never 
meddle with politics, will dress plain, be ready 
to yield to the caprice of the people, yet decided 
and persevering, in short, who can become all 
things to all men, such, if he can be found, is 
the preacher for this country. One whose voice 
' grates harsh thunder/ rather than flows in 
smooth accents, would please the people. 



\1.\ \\ 

1 It app i .: spintu 

of mind i . ( if I i 

is discoui \\ rite to a distant Friend 

1 u ish to enlist your s\ mpathies mid pi i 

to pray for my worldly pro 
bat that I may be made a bumble foll< 
of Jesus, and be kept from the evil that i i 
the world. 1 can have Christian society bere; 
l)ut they do n a like those who meet in 

brother Williams 1 little room wh< 
you. 

* RI il best wishes to all youf family, 

and every kind friend in C. May the I 
pro- ; work. 

1 Your humble servant, A. STONZ. 1 

'Feb. 19. Wrote this evening to I 
Wright Why do I feel an attachment to 

Christians I is it because I feel like them I 
because they are holy and T love ho! 
because my name is among them, and 1 t 
kind of party interest? I think my situation ifl 
not very favorable to growth in grace. The 
work is thine, O Lord. 

• thee more and D 
If I love at all. I pi 
If I never loved before, 

1 0-2. Fi It so . con morning in 

reading from [sa. xliv. 22. ll I have blotted out 

i thick cloud thy 
cloud thj .u unto me, for I haV< 

deemed the* 



208 MEMOIR OF 

" Blest is the man, forever blest, 
Whose guilt is pardoned by his God 5 
Whose sins with sorrow are confessed, 
And covered with his Saviour's blood." 

6 March 8. Alas, at what a distance I live 
from God ! When I pray, I do not feel in his 
presence ; and this world seems to engross al- 
most all my thoughts. O that I may love reli- 
gion more, and the world less, that the word of 
God may be sweeter than honey to my taste. 

' 18. Spoke to the Sabbath school on the 
sufferings of Christ, and prayed. Heard of the 
proselyting of the Mormouites. O Lord, pre- 
serve me from the errors that are abroad in the 
world. Feel more and more my need of the 
grace of God. 

1 25. Attended the Sunday school at Bethel 
for the last time. Spoke to the scholars on the 
importance of immediate repentance. Was 
somewhat stirred up by a sermon from Phil. ii. 
12, 13. " Work out your own salvation with 
fear and trembling," &x. Felt this afternoon 
in secret prayer in some measure as I used to 
feel in Massachusetts. Whatever the Lord de- 
nies me, I pray that he would give me his grace. 
This week may prove eventful in my life. I 
pray that the Lord would kindly guide me.' 

Among his many valuable papers, Mr. S. left 
an entertaining Dialogue on Intemperance, con- 
taining many shrewd passages which he un- 
doubtedly prepared for the use of his school at 



some exhibition or examination. Also, m Ad- 
dress on Temperance, delivered at the 

ichool, probably at Bethel settlement, n 
he wa> very useful in improving the moral con- 
dition of the inhabitants. And likewise b Vin- 
dication of the operations of the Baptist Board 
for Foreign Missions, in the prosperity of which 
he felt deeply interested. These productions 

are all worthy of perU8al, and several Others not 
particularized ; but to insert all that his pen baa 
given, would swell this book beyond a suitable 
limit : they must therefore be omitted. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

At Rushville—To Mr. F. P. S.— TIie Mormomtf H 

•tehj recommends Religion — At Bcardstown — Studied at 
Edwardsville — Devotional Remarks. 

' Apiul 20, 1S32. Went to Rushville. Fell 
in company with a man from Jacksonville, who 
is not a professor. Hundreds of non-professors 
live on the failings of professors. This shows 
the importance of professors living in accord- 
ance with their profession. Met a cordial wel- 
come at brother Logan's. Conversed on the 
state of affairs, and the churches of the " Mili- 
tary Tract." The fields are truly white for the 
harvest.' 



210 MEMOIR OF 

To his brother, Mr. F. P. S. 

6 Rushville, Schuyler co. 111. ) 
April 21, 1832. ] 
* Very dear brother, 

c I received your letter in due time, and have 
been prevented from answering it before only 
from want of time. I was near the close of my 
school, when I received it, and have since been 
traveling most of the time. I have been to 
Kaskaskia, and Waterloo the shire town of 
Monroe county, spent about a week in Edwards- 
ville and Alton, and am now, as you see by the 
date of my letter, at Rushville, the county seat 
of Schuyler county. This is a fine country of 
land, and settling rapidly. The prairies are 
rich, the timber is good, the streams pure, with 
rocky beds. When I started from Edwards- 
ville, I intended passing through Schuyler, Ful- 
ton, the lower part of Knox and Peoria counties, 
before I returned, but was unable to travel. 

1 The Mormonites are making progress iathis 
state, and numbers of deluded fanatics are join- 
ing them, and preparing to set off for their New 
Jerusalem, which they say lies in Jackson coun- 
ty, Missouri. They preached in the neighbor- 
hood where f have been teaching, and a number 
were favorably disposed to their doctrine. After 
they were gone, a certain individual, a Metho- 
dist exhorter, followed a number of miles, in 
order to join their sect in full by being baptized 
by them. He rode w r ith such speed as to soon 
tire his horse, when he dismounted and ran on 



Al.Y \\ Jl I 

Be at last overtook them, was bapl 
ami ordianed a Mormonite preacher. On hii 
return, he attempted to perform a mirael 
walking on the water of Silver Creek, which 

was then very high. lie arrived i the 

other shore. His ability to swim, however, not 
his faith, saved him: He became violent!] 
ranged; and on reaching home, commenced 

roying his property. A\\ elegant fancy clock 
was first demolished and committed to the 
flames. French bedsteads, tables, trunks, chairs, 
&c. followed in succession. And stfai 
may appear, his wife, instead of attempting to 
hinder him, seemed actuated by t -j>irit 

and joined in the work of destruction by burn- 

i large stock of clothing, the fruits of her 
industry for years, and broke her tea B< ts and 
other ware. The neighbors arrived just as he 
commenced knocking olF the roof and weather 
boarding of his house. He has been confined 
most of the time since. His language is dr 
fully profane. His conduct and that of his wife 
blasted the hopes of Mormonism in tl. 
for a season. 

1 1 had thought, when I commenced my let- 
ter, to have devoted the greatest part of i 
religious subjects; but I hardly know v. 
to begin or what to say, for I reflect that what I 
write on this subject may perhaps not 
ceptable as if I spoke on another subject. But, 
dear brother, believe me, when I tell you tl 
never spoke to you on this subject, from 
desire to hurt your fet 



212 MEMOIR OF 

ment less ; for I think that there is no person 
on earth to whom I ever felt a stronger natural 
attachment than to you, and whose happiness I 
have more sincerely desired. I do not write to 
exhort you to any particular duty, but to ask a 
request of you as a brother, which I hope you 
will not deny. It is, that you will read the 
Bible carefully and constantly ; and that while 
you read, you will desire of the Lord, that if 
there be a truth there revealed in which you 
have any great interest, you may be able to find 
it and consider it ; that if there is any thing 
there, which relates directly to your own per- 
sonal business, you may know it in season. 

e You doubtless sometimes think me in some 
measure foolish. But admitting it to be so, all 
will be right at last. If one thinks and makes 
too much of religion, it will not harm him in the 
judgment day : all will be well. But if on the 
contrary one should chance to think too little or 
too lightly of it, he cannot be excused at that 
great day. Besides, I think it is impossible to 
run the Christian course, without appearing to 
act very foolishly in the eyes of those who do 
not consider the infinite importance of the reli- 
gion of Christ. I am astonished, that I do not 
possess more of that humble and teachable spirit 
which Christ requires, and which must doubtless 
appear foolish to those whose pride of heart is 
un humbled. I am often afraid that I have not 
the Spirit of Christ in me, and that I shall 
finally come short of the glory of God, and be 
dashed in pieces as a vessel in which the Master 



do pleasure. Still I think n 
would be, that, I I 

would u l-h to li\ 

ther in prosperity 

or health ; and I 
the same. I think it is of very littli 
sequence n hat in tins w 

the longest it is but a few 
nity t 1 wish to hear from y< 

My h ther and mother, brol 

ters. The happii 
and mother depends much on j 

1 Your brother, A. I 

'April 2t>. At Beardstown made some in- 
quiry with regard to Sunday schools, and fell 

rred up on the 
mined to visit every professor in the place. Mr. 
Fink, a Methodist, entered deeply into 

and accompanied me in mj I the 

inder of the pn all of whom we 

found favorable to Sunday schools. Ten n 
the evening, and pledged themselvi t heir 

influence and effort in the cause. Pound 15 
professors in the place. 

'May .">. At Edwardsville. Arose in 
morning and co: blood. !»• - 

k and exceedingly weak, [f this 
warning to me to pn n 

J be fitted bj stand io 

presr d in the righteousm 

How little of the 

1<> 



214 MEMOIR OF 

service of God. Prepare me, Father in heaven, 
for what is before me, and let me feel thy love. 

e 14. Brother Peck almost persuaded me to 
take a S. S. agency. Attended S. S. concert. 
O for more grace to live devoted to God. I 
wish to have every motion governed by the love 
of God. 

' 16. May my time, my studies and talents 
be entirely consecrated. 

" Give joy, give grief, give ease or pain, 

Take health or friends away 3 
But let me find them all again 

In that eternal day." 

' 18. There is too much conformity to the 
world in the church. When will the time come 
that all who have been bought with the precious 
blood of Christ will feel an equality like brothers 
and sisters. 

'20. Studied some in Euclid and botany. 
Worked in the garden most of the forenoon. 
Went down town in the afternoon, and went to 
fish with Drs. H. and E. Sung in the evening. 
On review I cannot see that I have done any 
good to day. Heard of the defeat of our troops 
by the Indians. Poor fellows! most of them 
unprepared for the solemn scene of dying. 

'23. Talked on the subject of shouting, &c. 
at meet i ill. Felt hurt at insinuations and re- 
ions cast out by a brother. O Lord, thou 
knowest the heart; and if I am thine, help me 
to live so as to have the constant witness that I 



\'.\ w roi 

am tli ino ; and m 

little by others and not bo ; I 

'June 1. Had good bu< 

tend( 

in I, that 1 live i 
tance from God. Can it be that 1 \ 
brought nigh by the blood of Chi 
my aim, to follow Christ 

can. 

*2. One year ago this day I landed in Illi- 
nois. Sot apart this day for prayer an I 
of it in writing, and visitifl 

S. scholars. 

1 3. Taken last night with a violent diarrl 

Had fever all day and pain my limbs. ( 

not fix my thoughts profitably on i 

'5. Still taking medicine, though much 

ter. T want to feel the Lor 

stantly constraining me, and live ready to 

any moment. 

1 10. Took a ramble to establish & 
ited and procured 20 

Called at Eastabrooks, and concluded to r< 
the school there. 5 



216 MEMOIR OF 



CHAPTER XXV. 

To Mr. S. W.— Recollections of the past — Manners and Cus- 
toms—To the S. &. Children at C. — A minister on the Mili- 
tary Tract — Wants of that Tract — He conforms to the Peo- 
ple—Alton Seminary. 

To Mr. S. W. 
' Edwardsville,' 111. June 24, 1832. 
* Very dear friend and brother, 

c I have delayed writing to you longer than I 
thought I should when I left, but still that does 
not excuse you from writing to me in this land 
of strangers. You can hardly conceive how 
pleasant it is to receive intelligence, especially 
if it be cheering, from a friend o' Auld lang 
Syne. 

' It is not a matter of wonder that we should 
forget or think but seldom of one who is far 
from us or long absent, when we are surrounded 
by others to whom years of intimacy and en- 
dearments have attached us. But let us be 
separated from all those who partook our joys 
and shared our sorrows in youthful life, and 
their remembrance will be graven on our hearts. 
We cannot be made to forget them. Such is 
my remembrance of friends at Cummington, 
among whom I delight to recall to mind yourself 
and family. For your kindness to me, while 
residing under your roof, I would now take 
occasion to thank you. Perhaps I may never 
be permitted to take a seat in that little room 
again, but never will its image be erased from 



A I \ \\ 

my mind, never will ;i | 

that i billowed p 
Then was the Goal conclusion formed of 
ing myself to that band of brethren an 
whd 1 hope are walking together in lore, 
growing in grace and in the knowledge 

re their welfare, while 

1 write. Yes, I do love the brethren ; bat I 

fear that it is nofl DM I thej hear the 

ge of Christ 1 ask not for wealth. \ 
is it I A Bnar ik not for fame, though I 

am sensible that an unholy principle of ambition 

lurks in my ; l 

early dew. 1 ask not fur the pkasuri 

world. They lade. But let me have I poiti* D 

with the followers of the Lamb, how, 

however despised, and I ask no more. 

' Though deprived of many privi Inch 

I formerly enjoyed, I am perfectly contented. I 
have not as yet seen cause to r ring 

mchusetts. I have spent seven months 
since coming here, in teaching school. Fight- 
gouging and biting are not so fashionable 
here as formerly ; still fights,, bloody faces, crip- 
pled fingers, &c. are no strange Bights. : 
ners and customs are very different here, tn m 
what they are in 

preaching and of worship in gen< ral i- different 
I have become so accustomed to the manner of 
proceeding, that I do not think of it- 1 
singular, except when my mind happen 
wander to my native home. The delivery, pro- 
nunciation and grammatical construction 



218 MEMOIR OF 

some preachers "out Herods Herod. " I heard 
a Baptist preacher not long since, who is called 
"tolerable" here, for a young preacher, begin 
his sermon in this strain : — " I have heard it 
said," said he, " that little preachers should 
take little texts; but I don't think so. I think 
little preachers should take great texts : for it is 
evident, that small preachers with little texts, 
must make a "poor out;" but little preachers 
with the help of big texts, may bring something 
forward to profit the people. So I will read you 
my text, which you will see is a big one." 

'Tell the Sunday school children, that the 
children here are not so highly favored as they 
are. I was in a place a short time since on the 
Illinois river, where lived two little boys, one 
nine, the other eleven, who regularly on the 
Sabbath paddled across the Illinois and walked 
eight miles to a Sabbath school to learn. This 
was the only opportunity they had of learning 
to read, and this is better than some have, 
though there are no great numbers of children 
that have not some phance of education. There 
are very many adults that cannot read : in some 
parts the number is very great. 

1 There is a Sunday school in this place of 50 
or 60, together with an infant S. S. of above 30. 
I have relinquished my class in this school, and 
now attend two schools, one eight and the other 
five miles from this place. In the first men- 
tioned, we met for the first time last Sabbath. 
But one professor besides myself, and she came 
as a scholar. One came with a babe in her 



ALVAN STO\ 

arms, determined to embrace the opportanit 
learn to read, 9 A grown up were no 

. 1 pit) them. Thej hare 
not had the instruction whioh those ha?e wn 
I Sabbath ;it C ; and how wil 
up in judgment against the s. s. children 
in C, who hear from Sabbath to Sabbath the 
truths of the gospel and neglect their pn I 
souls still ! 

'There are some good fruits ofSundaj 
even in these western wilds ; I mean spiritual 
fruits. 1 was lately on an excursion to tin: 
M Military Tract. 1 ' This is a destitute region ; 
and little did 1 think of seeing little child 
there, of eight or ten years of age, exempli! 
the religion of Jesus in their lives, and of hear- 
ing them relate so clearly the dealing 
with their souls. But so it wi 

'I have mentioned the Military Tract. 1 
wish I could lay before you the wants of the 
people there, and the need of mi- 
humble, devout, unassuming missionaries. Im- 
agine yourself, if possible, entering a rude cabin, 
(I cannot call it a house,) 14 by 12, built of 
logs, and "chinked and daubed" with mud 
the prairie, the entrance scarcely high enough 
for a man of common stature to fenter without 
bowing. What do you see within ? AV 
family of half a dozen small children : and of 
inanimate things, you see four or live chaii 
plain table, two decent beds, a few kit 
utensils under a - hich is Q 

arranged what little table furniture is pO00< 



220 MEMOIR OF 

by the inmates. You see also a little bookcase, 
on one shelf of which is a Bible, Hymn Book, 
Fox's Book of Martyrs, Memoir of Mrs. Judson, 
Doddridge's Rise and Progress, Butterworth's 
Concordance, and a few Tracts ; and on the 
other, a small Sunday school library. And as 
to the rest, save a ladder which leads into the 
loft, where the children sleep on pallets of straw, 
you see logs, bare logs, with mud between them. 
And who lives there ? A minister, a Baptist 
preacher, the most efficient one on the Military 
Tract, and I had almost said, the only one ; a 
man who, for his love of the souls of men, has 
sacrificed 900 or 1000 dollars ; and who, unless 
he is helped more efficiently from abroad, will, 
by his exertions in the cause of Christ, reduce 
himself to absolute want; a man who in youth 
had no opportunity of education, who now thirsts 
for information, but has not the ability to pro- 
cure books and other means ; one who rents his 
little prairie farm of 40 acres, and travels over 
Schuyler, Fulton, Knox, McDonough, Adams, 
and Pike counties, preaching, constituting 
churches, baptizing, distributing tracts, advocat- 
ing Sunday schools, temperance societies, and 
all the benevolent movements of the day, which 
through ignorance, as many now do, he former- 
ly opposed ; and who, on his return to the bos- 
om of his family, though he meets the smiles of 
a tender companion, is destined to hear the anx- 
ious inquiry, " What shall we do for clothing for 
our children, and where shall we next get corn, 
for we are almost out V* 



1 You, at the East who dwell in ceiled 
what do you think of this I It is no fiction. I 
have Been it, and more. Mow think you, would 

rn preachers like to i 
their elegant mansions for Mich a habitation I 
have described I \ et 1 would not 
aioon" for one to to this who 

would not be willing to make that >; 
necessary. And how would those dear sis! 
who spend many precious moment toilet 

in decorating their frail bodies, and whOj 
Pollok says, are " convinced (O shame !) 

u That God has made tliem greatly out of taste, 
And take much pains to make themselvi - inew ;" 

how would such think of living without that M- 
di> pen sable, a looking glass ? And what would 
the wives of some of our eastern preachers think, 
if instead of sitting down to their workstands by 
the curtained window to work lace, plait rulls, 
trim caps, &c. they were obliged to lay their 
hands to the spindle and hold the distaff; and 
when weary with household concert: 
down on a hickory chair or bench, and by the 
pure light of heaven through an aperture made 
by cutting out a log from the wall of the house, 
without a pane of gla£ h to inter? en< 

cut and make the bom ttt to pr< 

the husband from the " peltings of the pit 

i, ; ' in his journej r in God 

Yet which employment i. 
most pleasing in the sight of God I Dut I 
forbear. 



222 MEMOIR OF 

' I trust the time is approaching, when our 
brethren and sisters every where will understand 
and practice the principles of self-denial, and 
not an individual moment be lost, devoted to 
gaudy show and the pcmp and circumstance of 
life, but every one tell well on the happiness of 
our fellow creatures. 

f I am sure that the modesty of the individu- 
al I have mentioned, would blame me for stating 
so freely his sacrifices and self-denial ; but I do 
it, that the wants and condition of that region 
may be known. He himself earnestly requested 
me to use my influence to have a preacher sent 
to labor with him. Five or six active ardently 
pious preachers of our denomination are needed 
on that Tract this moment. " I hear," said he, 
" the Macedonian cry from every quarter, 
1 Come over and help us.' In some places 
they will come 10 or 15 and even 20 miles to 
my appointments. I cannot supply half the 
places where I am urged to preach, even once 
in two or three months. I find that what I re- 
ceive from the Missionary society will not more 
than half support my family. But what shall I 
do? How can I bear to leave the field, when 
the harvest is so great, while I am not in abso- 
lute beggary ?" He has relinquished many im- 
portant places more distant, as the calls have in- 
creased in settlements nearer his home. 

1 My feelings were strongly enlisted in favor 
of the Military Tract. I was better pleased 
with the natural situation of the country, than 
with any other part of Illinois that I have seen. 



I wish people at r just u hat 

of men a:< i want* d ■ ! i be told them 

, till thej come and gel familiar! 
quainted with tin* prejudices, prepo 
habits of thinking and ai* t i iil: of the I" 
Above all, let not a Yankee speak of the man- 
ner of doing things in New England, and draw 
invidious comparison between eastern and 
crn modes and customs. Let him be 
with regard to his native land, persev< 
Unassuming, and he will succeed. 

'1 conform to all the unessential lorn 
western people ; in short, I ha be aye- 

ood "Tucky Ho." I ran eat bacon !<>r 
breakfast, bacon for dinner, and bac< o for sup- 
per. I can say, "I reckon," instead oi 
guess," " a heap," instead of " many" or " rerj 
much/' " sort o'," instead of " kind o 1 : " I 
have not adopted " caze," instead of " 1 
and some other words in the Kentucky \<> 
lary, which are yet tacking in my dialect I am 
fond of "waffles" and "(litters" and "hoe 
cake" and " corn pone;" and can in meeting 
sing almost as loud as a Kentucky This 

in some places is an indispensable requi 
Tims you see that 1 have with- 

out improvement, since coming to this country. 

' I now coin of the principal cau» 

my writing. It is to beg. Do not be surpri 
You ought to have known before now, ifyoudid 

d to beg. Mj ward- 1 

d, and amply prot from 

the burn;: i chills at 



224 MEMOIR OF 

night. I have bread enough and to spare, and, 
thank God, a little cash in my pocket. So you 
see I have nothing to ask on my own score. But 
there is another object for which I have taken it 
upon me to beg gratis. Since last year at this 
time, we have been resolving from time to time 
to come to a final resolution to build up a Bap- 
tist Seminary in Illinois. Lately we have re- 
deemed our resolves in a final resolve to go for- 
ward. Accordingly we have begun, after count- 
ing the cost for a year or more, and concluding 
that we shall be able to finish, if friends at the 
east assist. Shall we be disappointed ? I think 
not. The committee for soliciting funds have 
requested me to write to my friends at the East 
entreating aid. The Seminary is to be located 
at Alton. 240 acres of land have been already 
entered for it. The trustees are to be appoint- 
ed by the State Convention or Union Meeting, 
as it is called, and the Northern Baptist Educa- 
tion Society in New England, half by each. A 
building is to be put up immediately. 
* My love to all inquiring friends. 

1 Yours, &c. Alvan Stone.' 






: \i'Ti:i; \ \vi. 

Mrs. i:. C— D 

1 July 1, 1832. [ndepi oden tied hard 

in the morning. Sunday School met, formed a 
ml marched to the court fa 

and add. 

Mr. S. was one of the speakers. The only 
copy of hia address found among bis papers, 
seems to be in an unfinished state. It contains 

many int. , and is I here 

inserted, although imperfect. 

ADDRESS. 

'By every freeman, every true-born At. 
can, this day, the anniversary of a nation's liber- 
ty, ever has been and ever will be hailed with 
joy. Claiming to be such, we cannot assemble 
on this day, whatever be our primal 
with feelings of ordinary interest. Our thou 
recur back to t! tan half a 

to the time when our forefath 
their bosoms in i of their and 

their ind led the forlorn hope of In - 

We <ee in imagination ti 
and Bunker Hill, of Monmouth and Still* 
and Camden. W4 follow the brave patriots 
from 

We -<■• their bleeding wounds and bl 
town- and villages, and are U d I 



226 MEMOIR OF 

what a cost of blood and treasure was our liber* 
ty secured ! But they triumph ; they redeem 
the pledges of their " sacred honor/' and bestow 
the precious boon of freedom, an unsullied in- 
heritance, upon their posterity. We this day 
enjoy the fruits of their labors. 

' More than fifty anniversaries like the pres- 
ent, have gladdened the patriot's heart, and told 
the prosperity of our happy country ; and still 
this rich inheritance is ours. And can we look 
forward to the future with no anxiety ? Is the 
stability and perpetuity of that liberty so dearly 
bought, and may I not say, so dearly loved, a 
matter of no interest with us ? It cannot be. 
Every republican, while he is tenacious of the 
enjoyment of his own personal privileges, will 
feel anxious that his country, that his children 
and his children's children shall enjoy the same, 
to the latest generations. But how is this liber- 
ty to be perpetuated ? 

1 The politician will tell you, Increase her 
wealth, her resources, and her power. In peace 
prepare for war. Multiply internal improve- 
ments. Increase her navy. Protect her indus- 
try. In reply, we would point him to the ruins 
of the nations that have gone before us. Where 
are the Assyrian, the Medo-Persian, the Mace- 
donian, and the Roman empires, with their vast 
resources and wealth ? Though every city and 
village were linked together by railroads and ca- 
nals, and a thousand Birminghams spring up 
throughout our country ; though a cordon of for- 
tifications should girt our seacoast and frontier, 



and the e 

with do other nr cann< 

:i enemj , Mould, 
taut ;, '1111(1 the funeral kn< 

tion, and our liberty and our glorj I e laid i 

'The literary man will tell multiply 

literary ami scientific institutions, and di 
more widely the means of education. With the 

example of the Grecian republics I , and 

while we are aware that a people may be 1 
ed and yet corrupt, we cannot ho] 
ate our liberties by the means of literature 
science merely. 

'But the Christian patriot will tell you, in the 
of inspiration, that " righteous 
alteth a nation." He will li!> 
diffuse the means of education, but to unite with 
it the moral and r< instruction drawn 

from the pages of holy Writ, the moral stamina 
of society ; and as he rec< cline 

and fall of those proud empires which live only 
in history, the want of that red< 
principle which the Bible alone afl will 

endeavor to incorporate and identify mure cl 
ly his beloved country with that kingdom which 
is to fill the whole earth. For the unhal!- 
union of church and state he has no fellowship. 
He knows too well th 
the iron with the cl iy ; but hi 
similating the character of his coiintn in- 
die spirit and temper of th 

a barrier around his country Btronger than the 
bulwarks of art. 



228 MEMOIR OF 

' I have been taught from my infancy to vene- 
rate liberty ; to be proud of my country, her in- 
stitutions and her character. On days like this, 
I have heard her cannon roar. I have seen the 
glittering sword and musket grasped by hund- 
reds of her freemen ; and my heart has swelled 
with rapture. To me it spoke the determination 
of the sons of liberty to defend their rights. But 
never have I seen in the military display, so 
sure a pledge of the security of our liberties, as 
I imagine I see in exhibitions like the present. 

1 What constitutes a state ? 
1 Men, who their duties know. 

1 Tn the institution whose interests have led 
us here, we recognize the place where these du- 
ties are taught, duties based on the word of God, 
and taught too at a time when impressions made, 
remain fixed. Will any one pretend to say, 
that these duties are incompatible with republi- 
canism ? No. The gospel breathes the very 
spirit of republicanism. Then let the object of 
the institution be carried into effect ; let these 
duties and rights be universally taught to the 
rising generation, and understood and practiced, 
and we have nothing to fear for our country. 
Let the blessing of such institutions continue 
from generation to generation, and our liberties 
will be perpetual.' 

1 July 13. Read Darracot's Marks of Salva- 
tion, by which I hope that I w r as profited. 
Wrote a Circular for the Young Men's United 
Brethren Society. 



2. Sunday. Fell depressed. Retired 
.i ■(]. Enjoj 
ra union season well. 

I. Attended the Sunday i Hump 

m in 
em. I desir 
tranged from the world i 

1 Why should 1 
matters, and 
in Gfod alone. I 

and work in me, I can do nothin '. I 
help me.' 

On the 20th of August, he opened a 
lolars, w 
ducted to advantage, until he with 

the measles in October, from wl 

fully recovered, as it produced t! in of 

the lungs which terminated his valuable li 

To his father. 

' Edwardsville, 111. Oct. 14, !-:;:. 
1 Dear father, 

1 I am just recovering from the mei hich 

are now very common here, and in some instan- 
ces have been fatal. I had them hi for an 
adult. I felt unwell last week ori Mon 
Thursday, ate nothing, drank plentifully of 
cider from the press, and in the evening 1" 
to break out. To-day feel almost well, and 
be able probably to resume my school again in a 
day or tv 



230 MEMOIR OF 

1 1 still feel contented. My school is not 
large. I shall leave this place at the close of 
the term, which will be in about five weeks, and 
go to Alton and pursue my studies there next 
winter. 

* More have left the state for Arkansaw dur- 
ing the past season, than have emigrated to it 
from New England for the last six years. The 
seasons since I came here have been as cold as 
New England. Indeed, I am obliged to wear* 
more clothing here, to make me comfortable, 
than at the East. 

c The cholera has broken out at St. Louis, 
and is now sweeping off the inhabitants at a 
fearful rate. Some from this vicinity have been 
to market, taken the disease, and in a few hours 
died. We do not feel safe at Edwardsville, and 
have adopted some regulations for the cleansing 
of the place, in doors and out. Indeed, the best 
and only safeguard we can have, is a constant 
preparation for death and eternity. Without 
this, we can feel safe with no precaution and in 
no situation. 

1 I intend, if I live, to visit New England in 
three or four years. That you and mother may 
be instrumental in cheering each other in the 
last days of your pilgrimage on earth, and each 
feel abundantly the consolations of that religion 
which is peculiarly consoling to the " vveary 3 " is 
my earnest desire and prayer. 

c Affectionately your son, A. Stone.' 



AL\ W 

4 ( tet 31, 11' .ird an excellent ind 

foh Bomewhat stirred up, E 

r, Had Bome 1 
tor holiness. that the Lord would u 

clean heart !' 

The pious breathings of Mr. S 

called to recollection the beatitudes of our Lord, 
recorded in the fifth chapter oi Matthew : I 
our beloved friend they v. ingly applica- 

ble, as characteristics Christian. 

O that they were more generally apparent in all 

the i> 

of the glory of his grace. 

To bis sister Mrs. R. C. 

' Edwardsvillc, Not. 3, I 
* Very dear sister, 

1 I am sorry to be obliged to tell you that my 
health is much poorer than when I wrote to fath- 
er. Since then 1 have I hool and quit 
twice. The last attempt prostrated my mi< 
completely, and took aw, 
now taking tonics. 1 have in 
covered my appetite, but have as yet very little 
strength. My legs and f< < nsid- 
erabi to make it difficult and painful for 
me to walk ; they ar 

-chool too soon, which, with m 
cold, is the cause of ray present situation. I am 
as yet very nearly the same ea <-it I 

formerly was at home, borrow in. 
from the future, and E ed. If I 



232 MEMOIR OF 

get able to ride soon, I expect to take a trip of 
two or three weeks up the country. The doc- 
tor says I must travel considerable to recover 
my_health. 

< Nov. 6. 
c Dear sister, 

c I wish I could write a more favorable ac- 
count of my spiritual condition, than I have of 
my health. But my bodily and spiritual health 
are nearly in the same condition. I find few 
here to whom I can speak my feelings. I have 
had, I think, no religious enjoyment lately. 
Still my prayer is for faith and grace, and ener- 
gy in the cause of Christ ; and I wish the pray- 
ers of others for the same blessings, more than I 
do gold or silver : for what are we, without the 
grace of God dwelling in us? I was obliged to 
leave my Sunday schools some weeks since. 

' I hope that you enjoy the comfort of relig- 
ion, and are walking in the way that leads to ev- 
erlasting life. Our Saviour says, it is impossi- 
ble to be his disciples, without denying our- 
selves and taking up our cross daily and follow- 
ing him. The path to heaven is not smooth 
and easy. Strait is the gate and narrow is the 
way which leadeth to life. My best wishes will 
ever be yours. Remember me at a throne of 
grace. 

' From your affectionate brother, 

A. Stone.' 



ALVAN 

CHAPTER \ wir. 

— /, 

( >n the 13th of November, Mr. s. set off 

journey to the upper counties ol Illinois, in hope 
then r his broken health. <>n the 

way he was afflicted with a bad cough and i 

diarrhua which caused extreme v. hut 

lie had confidence in the Lord. 

On the 00th, h< 1 at a Qualu 

on the Mackinaw. In his journal he sajcs, 
" Talk, talk, talk : yet very polite and obli 
Things in New England Btyle more than 1 have 
seen them before. 

Keep silence, or mmething that's better: 

Whoever speaks much, some folly will utt< 

On the 24th, he was taken with raising 
blood ; and that he might have the aid of a phy- 
sician, he proceeded to Bureau, and put up with 

Dr. Chamberlain. Thence he journeyed to 
Rushville, and wrote the folio* in . 



To his brother, Mr. A 
: ; Schuyl 



Rushville. 111. • 



1 Dear brother, 

'After having the measles about bix v.- 

since, my health continuing poor, ti. 
advised me to travel. Accordingly a.- 



234 MEMOIR OF 

was able, I started for the upper counties, and 
have now been absent from Edwardsville about 
three weeks. I have been through Macoupin, 
Morgan, Sangamo, Tazewell and Putnam coun- 
ties, on the east side of the Illinois, and Putnam, 
Peoria, Knox, Fulton and Schuyler, on the west. 
So far as I am able, I will describe in a few 
words these counties. 

' Macoupin is tolerably well supplied with 
timber. The prairies are mostly flat, and some 
of them very wet. The county is settling fast. 
Carlynville, the county seat, is a small place and 
not improving much. It is settled for the most 
part with an unenlightened, unenterprising, 
whiskey-drinking people, which is the cause of 
its present situation. 

1 Morgan and Sangamo counties have larger 
prairies, yet on the whole are tolerably well tim- 
bered. The principal objection to these coun- 
ties is, their being so wet. Springfield would 
be considered a respectable place any where. 

1 Tazewell county in point of soil is much su- 
perior to the far famed Sangamo ; but a great 
proportion of it is prairie, and most of the prai- 
ries very large. Where there is timber, it is 
better than in the counties below. Pekin, the 
present county seat, is on the river. I went 
considerably out of my way to see it; and 
whether it was owing to the reports I had heard 
of its unhealthiness, or the disagreeable weather 
of the day I visited it, or some other cause, I 
cannot tell, but from some cause, I was not at 
all pleased with the place. It has perhaps 30 



or 40 buildings of different kin 

tram. 

; lands behind it, and 
the o 

I up north to 

the bond of the ri\er, as pi 
but Putnam extends over the river, What I 
veil will apply to Putnam. 

'I meant to have visited La Salle ami 
rapids of the Illinois. On the moaning of the 
day that I intended to have reached ( 
the count ' La Salla, 1 wi with 

rai<inu blood, and turned my course to the 
"Yankee settlement" on the Bureau, wh< 
knew I sliould iind a physician. I crossed the 
river at Hennepin, the county scat of Putnam 
county, six or eight miles below the foot of the 
rapids. It is situated on the southeast bank of 
the river, which is high and sandy, and i^com- 
! of a blockhouse, two stores, about ten 
dwelling houses, and three or fun: 
built of logs. No building I >h<>uld think 
more than 20 by 1(> feet. The first blow 
struck here last year. 

' F cannot be very particular in th< 
of the " Yankee settle in rmed 

here, the location of the Northai 
J arrived there on Saturday evening and 1' 
Monday morni 
nity of s 

the imm< ttlement. 1 

men! 1 1! ; but I b 



236 MEMOIR OF 

that I should prefer to Bureau. In short, to use 
a phrase of the country, it is " not quite that, 
that it's cracked up to be." The prairie is too 
level, and it is too far from good timber. There 
is but one of the colony there yet, Doct. Cham- 
berlain, though the settlement is composed chief- 
ly of Yankees. 

1 From Bureau I crossed southwest to the 
Galena road, part of the way on an Indian trail 
or path, and part of the way without any. 

1 Were I a farmer intending to settle in Illi- 
nois, if I could get a number of families of the 
right kind with me, I would settle on the ex- 
treme head of Spoon river. I have seen consid- 
erable of Illinois, and that which is called the 
handsomest and best, but I have seen none that 
I liked so well as the head of Spoon river. The 
prairie is beautiful and the timber excellent. I 
did not go through the timber, but was told by 
one who had been through it, that it was five or 
six miles broad. The growth is oak, hickory, 
black walnut, maple, (here called sugar tree,) 
and some others. One great obstacle to the 
prosperity of the Military Tract is, so much of 
the land being owned by speculators, who either 
cannot be found, or if known, hold the land so 
high that it cannot be purchased. This grove 
and prairie which I have mentioned is Congress 
land, and can be had at the price of public 
lands. It is about 12 miles from the Galena 
road, and will for a great length of time have an 
unbounded and excellent range for cattle. Cat- 
tle and provisions generally find a ready market 



at the mines. Th€ 

frontier 
if the Indians should 

1 Knox ami ire liable to ' 

With Putnam an<l I much 

prairie. Fulton county is we] ami tim- 

l ton ami Lewiston, the lata 
which is the county seat, are thriring little 
places. Schuyler well timbered. R 

ville, which threi ontained tin 

four log cabins, and from 25 iU, now 

has an elegant brick com brick >chool 

house, steam mill, three stores, many haml 
frame and brick houses, and from four to live 
hundred inhabitants. 

1 Thus I have gone through in a hast; manner 
my observations of my journey, and would only 
add, that I consider the upper com 
to the lower ones, because the timber 
where there is timber, the prairies are b 

4 a sandy loam instead of clayey, and al-o 
rolling, and being more healthy. 

'The weather, since I started on my return, 
has been very agreeable till to-day : it is now 
quite cold. You probably think that i: 
on account of cold and exposure, is mm 
in New England than here, i 
taken. Facing one of the toughest north. 
ers in the severest weather of winter, cantr 
compared to travelii; 

jrou have a 
intermission, pier It W 

a fact, I ha\u nofl onlj 



238 MEMOIR OF 

heard expressed by others, p that the winds of Illi- 
nois are peculiarly searching. I can describe 
them in no better way than by saying, they feel 
as if they blew through one. Though for the 
time that T have been here, I have been in lati- 
tude 38°, and clothed warmer than in New Eng- 
land, I have felt the effects of cold more than I 
was ever sensible of feeling, in the same length 
of time there. 

1 1 still feel, that the service of God is our 
great business here, and that we enjoy real pros- 
perity, only so far as we live in conformity with 
his will, and are blest with his love. Give my 
love to your family and all father's. That you 
may enjoy the richest of Heaven's blessings is 
the constant desire and prayer of your brother, 

A. Stone.' 

From his journey to the northern counties in 
hope of regaining health, Mr. S. returned to 
Edwardsville on the 10th of December ; and as 
his funds were nearly exhausted by this expen- 
sive journey, instead of studying as he had pur- 
posed, he again opened a school on the 17th. 
But his health continued feeble, and his lungs 
affected. 

1 21. I desire to be prepared for the will of 
God. 

6 22. Less fever. My heart appears very 
hard, yet I trust I have some right desires. 

1 26. Feel desirous above all things to have 
faith and be holy. 



1 1 \ 

CHAPTEB wvni. 

n. u—ii i 

i /• 

to his 

Tm: following letter v. 
written by M n hand to anv oi 

New E I friends. The perusal of it piei 

our li th grief, in expectation of hi 

proaching exit. 

To Rev. D. W. 

f EdwardsTille, Dec. 30, l 
v dear friend and pastor, 

' You must not at present expect many 1 
from me. I merely write to you a few woi 
let you know that I have not forgotten TOO, and 
never shall. I have lost my health and spirits, 
and what little of energy I on< 

1 After having the m out three months 

since, I was brought quite low by i ; my- 

self too soon, and an attempt to continue my 
school. Having recovered in some degree my 
health, I was advised to travel, which I did, to 
the northern part of this state, and \\ 
four weeks. Instead of proving beneficial to my 
health, the journey seemed to be rather injuri- 
ous. After my rettirn, I so far recovered 
feel justified in commencing school again ; but 
I kept only three 
quit it altogether. Though 1 have lost health 



240 MEMOIR OF 

and my activity of mind, blessed be the name of 
the Lord, I have not lost all hope in him. This 
day has been a good day to me, and I trust I 
have been able, while calling upon his name, to 
exercise a confidence in him. 

' Few perhaps have been more ingenious in 
forming earthly hopes than I have ; and it ap- 
pears to me, that of late few have had them 
leave them faster. I have had some trials, one 
unlooked for and unexpected ; but it is past, and 
a recurrence to it is unnecessary and serves no 
useful purpose. Finally, I ought not to call any 
thing which I have experienced trials worth no- 
ticing. They are nothing, in comparison of 
what might be, nor of what I deserve. 

1 You may well conclude that Cummington is 
not unfrequently in my thoughts, where imagi- 
nation presents you as sitting under your own 
vine and fig tree with none to molest. I sup- 
pose I have still a name with you. I certainly 
feel less than the least of all the saints there. 

' Excuse my few r hasty uninteresting lines, 
and impute it to the right cause. My love to all 
your family, and all Cummington friends. Pray 
for me. 

1 Your unworthy friend and brother, 

Alvan Stone.' 

It is unknown at what time the following beau- 
tiful stanzas were written. They were left un- 
finished on a loose slip of paper, but have under- 
gone very little alteration, except in the last but 
one. A more appropriate place in this volume 



may not be found for them, than that they here 
occupy. 

d I would seek dm i I 

trth ; 
Or unknown ami unl uld roam 

iway from the land of my birth. 

1 1 thought I could easily cl 

The loved scenes which inv infinry I. 
And impress with things novel and orange 

The tablet of memory anew. 

1 But too deeply engraved on my heart 
Are the joys and the bliss which the kind 

And the fond recollections impart. 
To be blotted so soon from my mind. 

1 Though in nature's rich lap I may dwell, 

In the midst of kind friends I maj 
These landscapes and friends on ; 

Of scenes and of friends dear a" 

: But why should we love to recall 
The sweet dreams of bliss that are past ? 

Dreams of bliss ? Yes, and dreams they were all, 
Yet dreams whose dear memory will I 

' Ah ! why should the thoughts wander still, 
And bliss from the past hope to borrow ? 

Was fortune commissioned to fill 
The cup with no mingling of son 

'Oh no ! if kii. ' : 
Earthly b< 

• ) | • 



242 MEMOIR OF 

* Now dimmed is the joy-speaking eye ! 

Now silent the voice that once moved 
And carried our hopes, ah, too high ! 

Low lies the fair form once so loved ! 

1 Let us fasten on things that endure 
Our hopes, even on things yet unseen ; 

May these our best passions allure, 
And directs us beyond things terrene. 

1 Then whether in joy or in sorrow 
We spend our short lives, matters not. 

Our fears and our hopes may to-morrow 
In the sleep of the grave be forgot.- 

Jan. 4, 1833. He rode to Alton, to the house 
of Rev. H. Loomis. 

t Jan 5. Taken last night soon after going to 
bed with coughing and raising blood. My time 
of departure is perhaps at hand. My chief anx- 
iety is, that if I am recovered, I may live entire- 
ly to God's glory ; and if I am taken away, may 
be prepared to meet him in peace and with joy. 

1 6. Still raising blood in small quantities. 
Do not feel so much spirituality as I wish. O 
for grace and faith, a firm and unshaken confi- 
dence in God. 

' 11. Some better. Studied some in the fore- 
noon, which debilitated me very much. 

' 13. Bled some this morning. Think I am 
not a Christian. 

1 14. Bled some this morning. Felt weak all 
day, and distressed at my spiritual condition. 



ALVAN ST(». 

1 15. Feci iter, though I soreness at 

the lungs Ooct. Long called and 

cine, which I con 

Here i journal, for !h i was no m 

able to write. The follow: r dictated by 

himself, was written by the hand of anotlu r 

To his pare i 

1 Alton, Jan. l\ } 1-33. 
c My dear pare 

1 I now probably address you for the last time. 
I received your letters on the night of my arrival 
at this place, which was on the 4th of this 
month. I intended to have answered them the 
next day, but was taken that evening with bl< 
ing at the lungs, since which time I have been 
in a very low state. I have bled twice since, 
and am at present in a very weak state. I have 
some cough, and raise considerable. Within 
the past week I have grown weak very fast, and 
am now scarcely able to get up and down out of 
my bed. I am in the family of Rev. Mr. Loom- 
is, where I receive every attention that I could 
wish. I had the best of medical advice ; so that 
your apprehensions, that if I should be sick, I 
should not receive the necessary attention among 
strangers, need not give you any uneasinc 

1 There is a possibility of my recovery, but I 
think very little probability. Indeed, I do not 
expect my life to be prolonged many d 
this I consider of little a H ; 

prepared to go, I should have little anxiety to 



244 MEMOIR OF 

remain; but my mind is in a state x>f gloomy 
darkness, and my constant prayer is, that God 
would lift up the light of his countenance up- 
on me. 

* Owing to my weakness, I write but little, or 
rather indite but little, as you see by the hand 
writing that another writes for me. Whatever 
be the result of my sickness, you will be in- 
formed. 

c My sincerest love to my brothers and sisters 
and other friends. I add no more at present. 
My ardent wish and prayer is still for your wel- 
fare here and hereafter. 

' Your affectionate son.' 

The next intelligence concerning Mr. S. re- 
ceived by his friends at the East, is contained in 
the following letter from Rev. H. Loomis of Al- 
ton to his father. 

< Alton, Feb. 20, 1833. 

1 Brother Stone, 

c While a stranger otherwise than by informa- 
tion, I am called in the providence of God toad- 
dress you upon a mournful subject. You have 
doubtless received a letter from your dear son 
Alvan, written about five weeks since, and pen- 
ned by a friend, informing you that he was very 
low, bleeding at his lungs, and that he was in 
my family. He is now I trust in heaven, en- 
joying the blessedness of the redeemed. He 
died on Wednesday, Feb. 13th, at 8 o'clock, p. 
m. and was buried the following day, at 4 o'clock, 
p. m. 



\i,\ \\ STONE. 

1 Ho was in my one quart 

mat at Edwardsville. 1 became deeply into 

oil in linn, and hoped he 1 1 1 1 l: 1 1 1 be an in 

of much good. But the measles left bin 
debilitated, especially at the lungs. M<" was tak- 
en bleeding, and remained Bome time quit 
ble at Edwardsville in the family of Dr. Efyskell, 
a mo lent man and physician. B 

weeks before his death, he removed to my 
house, as I could better accommodate him with 
room. He was then feeble, and complained of 
■ exhausted by the ride of twelve milefl in B 
carriage. The following morning, before rising 
from bed, he bled freely at the lungs. But he 
kept about house some, and stept out of the 
door occasionally, for eight or ten days, when ho 
became sensibly lower. After that he was con- 
fined to his chamber, and in a few days entirely 
to his bed, and was strictly attended to by night 
and by day. A considerable part of tin 
had two attendants constantly by him. His 
ical attendance was good; but still the difl 
progressed, until it laid his frail body in the dust. 

( Though not with his family relations, he 
with friends, who were willing and able to afford 
him all the assistance which man could afford. 
This disease is not BO common here as in 
England; so that you have no real ipute 

his untimely death to his removal to thifl coun- 
try. His state of mind was generally desirable! 
calm, and even triumphant in hope, thn 
Lord Jesus Christ, though be had 
joy. Even when entirely rational, he was 



246 MEMOIR OF 

time much dejected, and rarely expressed much 
desire to recover. In the latter part of his sick- 
ness, his mind, as might be expected from his 
disease, was occasionally deranged ; but gener- 
ally, even in his moments of derangement, he 
gave evidence that his thoughts and his heart 
were with Christ. We consider him as giving 
very bright evidence that he was a Christian in- 
deed, and that our loss is his gain. His funeral 
was most respectfully attended. Enclosed I 
send you a lock of his hair, supposing it may be 
a mournful memento of a son. and a brother. 

' Your brother in the faith and fellowship of 
the gospel, Hubbel Loomis.' 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

His Character, as given by Rev. A Bailey to Mr. A. Reed-" 
Respect to his Memory in Goshen and Cummington — Notice 
published in the Pioneer — An elegiac Poem by Mrs. B.—His 
Character, as given by Mr. R. A. Cojfin and Rev. 2\ R. 

Ran; son. 

Extract of a letter from Rev. Alvin Bailey to 
Mr. Alanson Reed, then a member of the Bap- 
tist Literary and Theological Institution at Ham- 
ilton, N. Y. and now a Missionary to the East, 
under the direction of the Board of the Baptist 
General Convention for Foreign Missions. 

< Alton, Madison co. 111. Feb. 15, 1833. 
' Dear brother, 

c I feel myself under obligation to write you 
concerning dear brother Alvan Stone, who de- 



M.\ 

itil | 

1 I had the 1 

with him booii afi 
LUtumo of 18 
at length into an intimacj : and ii 

[uainted with him, 
attachment to him. 
man, and an i 

of hi? imer and 

fall 1 1 

house with mo. 

' When I first ! ith him, 

his health was far from 

promised to afford him several ul la- 

bor. Be I ild m that for I had tri- 

als of mind concerning the ministry, thin 
that perhaps it was his duty to 
pel : but this he had in ac- 

count of weakness of lui ! 1 to 

devote himself wholly to tl of learn- 

But while he tably and 

usefully employed in teach 
tacked with the measles, which he 
what severely, and which left him much w< 
at the lungs than he had b This 

thcr with a lon_r journey which he 
country, for the p 
an eligible situation i 
the b of his prof h be 

before lie bad so far 
ally able, br< 



248 MEMOIR OF 

which from time to time reduced him, until it 
brought him to his grave. I have no doubt it is 
well with him ; but I very much mourn his loss. 
The death of such men is a loss any where, but 
especially here, where good and intelligent men 
are more excellent than the cedars of Lebanon.' 

After the melancholy intelligence of the 
death of Mr. S. was received by his family con- 
nections and friends in Massachusetts, an ap- 
propriate sermon was delivered at Goshen, on 
the succeeding Sabbath, in presence of the fam- 
ily and many sympathizing friends, by Rev. 
William Hubbard ; and likewise at Cumming- 
ton, by the pastor of the church of which our 
deceased brother was a member, from Eccl. vii. 
1. " A good name is better than precious oint- 
ment. " 

All who knew him felt that a good man had 
fallen, that the church had lost a valuable mem- 
ber, and the world a benefactor, and that heav- 
en had received another saint to its blessed 
abodes. 

In the " Pioneer and Western Baptist," for 
March 22, 1833, appeared an obituary notice of 
Mr. S. which is here presented to the reader. 

c We have waited some time, before noticing 
the decease of our excellent brother in Christ, 
Alvan Stone, which took place at the house of 
Elder II. Loomis in Alton, to obtain some of the 
particulars of his last illness. 



alvan won 

1 Mr. Stone was i native of ( Mass. a 

nmonlv 
and pious habits. I h 

pie Ol and united with the Baptist church 

in his Dili His mind was well cultiva- 

ted. He had a Doble soul in an infirm am' 
ble body. In the Bpring of 1^ ; H, lie visited Illi- 
nois, with a view of devoting himself to the 
vice of his fellow men in the capacity of an in- 
structor of youth. His labors in Bethel coi 
gation in the northern part of this count) 
Clair,) and especially in the Sunday 
which he felt a devoted attachment, will be long 
remembered, and affection for him d< 
by the children and youth of that settlement. 

1 The last year he taught school in Edwards- 
ville, where his labors in the Sunday school, and 
among the people, will be held in long and 
grateful remembrance. In autumn he was at- 
tacked with the measles, which left him in a 
bad state of health, and with decided symptoms 
of pulmonary disease. A journey to Schuyler 
county, during a period of unpleasant weather, 
gave another shock to his tottering 
About the middle of January he entered the 
family of Elder Loomis in Alton, with the 
of becoming an assistant in the Alton Seminary, 
and prosecuting his own studies. By tbifl time 
his longs had become quite irritable, and 1" 
char_ ral occasions. The kind- 

ttention was shown him, and erery aid that 
humanity could give was afforded, hut all in 
vain. His race was run, his u-cfulness ended j 



250 MEMOIR OF 

and he calmly sunk into the arms of death on 
the 13th of February, aged 25 years and 6 
months. He died, as might hav6 been expect- 
ed, with the confidence, the hope, and the calm- 
ness of the REAL CHRISTIAN.' 

The following beautiful lines are from the 
pen of a special friend of our deceased brother, 
Mrs. Sarah H. Bartlett, wife of Rev. G. Bartlett, 
missionary to Illinois. 

' O harp, unused in melody to sing, 

In funeral numbers one sad string awake, 

And chant the requiem of virtue dead. 

' Scarce had young Woodson sunk beneath the hand 
Of Death ; ere Stone, not less than he beloved, 
Followed his spirit to the world unknown. 
Both left the dear delights of native land 
With all its nameless sweets, in hopes to find 
In this fair land, beneath the setting sun, 
Another home; but Death relentless came, 
Marked them his prey, and sent them to the tomb. 
They died, alas ! without one kindred dear 
To hang in suffering fondness o'er their beds, 
Watch their faint pulse, beguile the tediours hours, 
Wipe from their pale cold brows the damps of death, 
Or point their agonizing souls to heaven. 

1 Desire to spread afar the Saviour's name 
Led Stoi?K away from all that blessed his youth, 
To the " Great Valley " of die " distant Weal," 
Replete with nature's richest, fairest gifts ; 
Which proved, too soon, alas ! his early grave. 
Long years of blissful toil he hoped to spend, 
Training the lovely youth of that fair land 
To rules of virtue ; and prepare their souls, 



Foi i glories of the world lo come. 

Bui the 1>1. irk curtail] oftbe envious tomb 

pects .unl himself in gl 
No funeral pomp, do death-bell's lingering chime,, 

. nor e'en the graU ful 
Of weeping relatives, proclaimed him 

roup of villagers, who knew his worth, 
Touched by his fate, assembled round his b 
Followed as mourners to bis hapless tomb, 
And o'er it tears of fond remembrance shed. 

###### 

■\ e spirits, uho the realms of ether ir 
And watch the footsteps of departed souls ; 

\ LVAlf, as he burst th< 
That bound his fettered spirit to his dust. 
And upward took his unfrequented wi 
Saw ye him venture near the Almighty's throne 5 
Then with his wonted modesty retire, 
Unable to sustain the full-orbed light 
Of such a luminary ? Or docs he stray, 
Lonely and thoughtful, (as he used to walk.) 
Amidst the amaranthine shades of heaven I 
Or does he, mindful of past blessings, seek 
Some former friend, whom here his bosom loved, 
Among the white-robed beings thai be mei 
Wandering at leisure o ? er the eternal plains; 
Or seated by the silver fount of life, 
Joined in sweet converse, and recounting 1 
Their pains and trials, while imprisoned here ! 

afxLi m \. 

Edwardsville. March 6, 1533. 

Nothing further need be said concerning the 

departed, to commend his character and exam- 



252 MEMOIR OF 

pie to the attention of surviving youth, than 
what is expressed in the following letters to the 
compiler. 

. ■ Warren, R. I. Jan. 27, 1835. 
1 Rev. and dear Sir, 

' It is interesting to me to learn that you pro- 
pose to publish a Memoir of Alvan Stone. The 
name of that young man is dear to me, and well 
it may be. To those who were acquainted with 
him, and were capable of appreciating intellectu- 
al or moral excellence, it could hardly be other- 
wise. His talents were of a high order. He 
thought clearly, accurately, and vigorously. His 
intellectual superiority resulted not from the 
premature development of any one faculty, but 
from the harmonious action of all. There was 
nothing in him of that specious brilliancy, which 
allures and fascinates for a while, but soon 
proves to be mere glitter. Sound and judicious 
rather than imaginative, he never aimed at dis- 
play. No person of discernment could long 
converse with him, however, without perceiving 
that he possessed more than ordinary intellectu- 
al powers. Though when he left the academy 
at Ashfield, he had but just commenced a regu- 
lar course of study, yet even then he had acquir- 
ed a command over his thoughts, and a power of 
expressing them in correct, appropriate, and for- 
cible language, which would have done honor to 
one in a much more advanced stage of educa- 
tion. When engaged in study, he aimed to in- 
vestigate to the bottom every point to which his 



AI.\ VN |T01 

attention was directed. 1 1 ; 

with indefinite news or indistinct 
He delighted in tracing the relations ol thin 
each Other, and his vi. irere 

rallj very accurate. He 

of analyzing thoughts, and of marking distinc- 
: different shades of thought, which 

rendered his recitations remarkably I 
and enabled him to detect i rrors irhi 
critical scholar would not have observed. Anoth- 
er interesting trait in his intellectual char; 
was this: — He always knew just how far hi 
see clearly ; and if there was, in relation to any 
subject, any darkness in his mind, he could tell 
how far the light went, and where the darkness 
commenced. This, together with his docility, 
and the interest which he ever manifested in lit- 
erary pursuits, rendered the intercourse between 
him and his teacher uncommonly pleasant. 

1 A member of a public literary institution has 
many opportunities for exhibiting whatever pe- 
culiar traits there may be in his social character. 
In Mr. Stone these traits were too interesting to 
remain long unobserved. Accordingly he had 
been under my instruction but a few weeks, be- 
fore it became obvious that he was one of a lit- 
tle circle of kindred spirits, who, distinguished 
by vigor of intellect, elevated views, decision of 
character, and fixed moral and religious princi- 
had already marked out their path of life, 
and were pur at path with a firmness of 

step which showed that more than common ob- 
stacles would be required to turn them aside. 



254 MEMOIR OF 

Though, as I have, already intimated, he was not 
imaginative, he possessed no small share of feel- 
ing ; but his feelings were controlled by his 
judgment. Hence his example and influence 
were highly beneficial to those with whom he 
was connected, and did much to give character 
to the Institution to which he belonged. He 
was affectionate to his associates, respectful to 
his teacher, and kind and conciliating to all. 

' But the crowning excellence of his character 
was his deep, ardent, and consistent piety. He 
walked with God. The presence of his Creator 
was to him a matter of solemn and felt reality. 
He was a Christian " at all times and in all 
places.'' We needed not to meet him in the 
conference room, (where the piety of too many 
seems to begin and end,) to see that the glory of 
God was his great object. This was manifest 
from all his conduct. Mildly and calmly, yet 
firmly and decidedly, did he oppose whatever he 
believed to be wrong ; and with quiet but perse- 
vering assiduity did he pursue the course which 
his conscience and his Bible told him was right. 
Regular in his habits, systematic in his allot- 
ments of time, and faithful in the discharge of 
his duty as a man, as a member of society, and 
as a Christian, he well exemplified the saying of 
the poet, 

11 Virtue, not rolling suns ; 4he mind matures." 

' Among the many youth who have been un- 
der my instruction, I know not where I could 
find one whose conduct and character I could 



more safely | d example to the rising 

aeration j than that <>f Ai \ w i 
' Respectful!] yours, 

Robert A. Coi i m. 1 

'Peru, March 18, If 

'Dcnr Sir, 

1 In answer to yours of the 23d ult. I am hap- 
iat 1 u as < [ii i to well acquainted with 
Mr. Stone in college, and consider that his char- 
acter was unexceptionable. I had not the means 

of knowing particularly about his scholarship, as 
we were in different classes ; I think however 
that his standing was reputable. 

1 He was distinguished for economy, sobriety, 
and mildness of disposition. His manners were 
affable without affectation. The great truths of 
his profession were transforming in their influ- 
ence upon his walk and conversation : this was 
apparent to all. He had no other purpose appa- 
rently, but to honor God. The truth is, a ten- 
der conscience Jived in his bosom. It was 
enough for him to know what was duty : he had 
no further question to ask. 

1 Just before I left college, a little event oc- 
curred, that bi 1 to render his name dear 
to me. I say, a little event ; for he that is faith- 
ful in a little, is faithful also in much. 

' It if \mi know, in college, for 

have what is called " the 
ior auction/'' ; t, for the 

I not 



256 MEMOIR. 

wish to carry away with them, books, furniture, 
&c. Among the bidders was Mr. Stone. An 
article of mine was struck off to him. When he 
handed me the pay, I said, this is more than 
it went at. ' I know it/ said he ; ' but it is not 
more than I think it is worth, and I want you 
to take it.' I did so ; and if I recollect, it was 
about one third more than the price he was to 
give. 

1 This little act was deeply impressed upon 
my mind, as proceeding from a truly conscien- 
tious spirit ; and so much the more so, as his 
circumstances urged him to make cautious pur- 
chases. And would to God that this trait, so 
admirably seen in all his life, were characteris- 
tic of every professed follower of the Lamb ; to 
whose kind faithful arms the happy spirit of 
brother Stone has so early fled. 
'Yours in Christian affection, 

T. R. Rawson.' 



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